


Destiny Prevails

by M_E_Lover, oddgit



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease - mentioned, Chronic Pain, Delusions, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sadness, Suicidal Thoughts, Tearjerker, ghost!John, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-12-07 09:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11620992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_E_Lover/pseuds/M_E_Lover, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddgit/pseuds/oddgit
Summary: The war with Samaritan is over but Harold’s personal war has only just begun. He’s gone back to Grace in Italy just as John had hoped he would but he’s not the same man he used to be as he struggles with the loss of John and the others. Just as he’d begun to think there was a chance at happiness with Grace he faces more devastating news as he attempts to put his life back together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an idea that oddgit introduced me to and together we ran with it! There will be tears and there will be much pain and sadness so there is a definite tissue warning.
> 
> We know next to nothing about any medical references so please excuse any inaccuracies, this is strictly for fictional enjoyment only, thank you all in advance!

Harold walked hand in hand with his love, Grace, to their favorite café. It had been almost seven months since the showdown with Samaritan. Since he lost John. 

Since he’d lost everything.

Days seemed to pass like months and months like years. The ever-present feeling of loss in a world that they had managed to save… but this world didn’t mean as much without John in it. Without the sole reason that he himself was still able to walk hand in hand with Grace. 

He seemed to be moving through life zombie like, just going through the motions, never truly present. 

The first few days after he went to Italy to reveal himself to Grace were full of true and reclaimed happiness. But the realization that he was still a man with far too many secrets that he had yet to enlighten her with… kept sinking into him. 

He kept telling himself that he was keeping Grace at arm’s length because he was protecting her. Protecting her from what? He had no clue. There were no more numbers, no more government hit men and no more Samaritan. There was no more threat to anyone anymore. And absolutely no reason for him to keep the past six years of his life from her.

But he kept doing it. Keeping her from the truth for no other reason now than to hide the pain of losing so much since he had seen her last. It was so ingrained into the man that Grace had known and fallen in love with that it became second nature to him again. 

Grace nudged his arm, “What’s on your mind, Harold?” She smiled warmly. 

He looked back at her and smiled, “Oh, it’s nothing sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.” He pursed his lips and pecked a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“Okay…” She replied, pressing herself in closer to him. She knew there was something eating away at him but she’d always let him take the time he needed before he came to her and it was no different now.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders without even thinking about it. The emotions he felt for her came back at once, much like he was on auto-pilot, easily reverting back to the happy life he'd shared with her forever ago. He'd never once stopped thinking of her, loving and longing for her and now miraculously they were together again.

He felt bad for what he had done to her and for what he was still doing to her. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to have the love of her life show up on her doorstep… returned from the dead… only to have him not be the same man she knew and loved when they were together last. 

Not even half the same person he was. A huge piece of himself was now missing.

“Harold, what do you think?” Grace asked, her face looking up at him. A sweet smile playing on her face that could melt the Arctic Circle. 

“About what?” He asked, trying to brighten up his expression. Failing miserably. 

“Where do you want to go to lunch?” She asked, concern evident in her voice. “What’s going on with you Harold?” She backed away and her eyes shifted up and down his body. Like she was inspecting him... as if it would tell her what was wrong. 

He doesn’t tell her that she won’t see what’s wrong by looking at him. Because the problem is that John’s gone and when he departed… he took Harold Finch… Wren… Gull… Grebe and even Egret… with him… every one of Harold’s past existences went away with John when he died. 

There’s nothing left to look at except the shell of a man who once had a purpose… The only man left is Harold Martin. Another alias that he can’t bring himself to explain to her… just another fabrication of his past.

“Everything’s fine, Grace…” He told with a reassuring smile. “Now let’s just get some lunch, I’m starving.” He smiled wider and pulled her in closer to him again, running his hand up and down her back. 

She looked at him, skeptically, but went with it. 

He breathed a sigh of relief that she hasn’t pushed him to talk about it. Because he’s not sure he could. 

He can’t say the name John verbally anymore. Can’t go into certain places that remind him too much like a New York diner. Destroyed all of his laptops. Sencha Green tea is a thing of the past because it tastes too bitter now. Sprinkled donuts and pastries don’t mean anything but the reminder of loss to him now. 

He’s trying to break the habit of reaching up to his ear. Reaching unconsciously for his earpiece. Wishing to just say one more word to his partner. 

To tell him thank you for the second chance. But he didn’t want it if it meant he had to be without him. 

To tell him he should have just let him die. 

To tell him that he misses him.

To tell him that he can’t enjoy life without him.

#

“I was thinking we could go see a movie tomorrow?” Grace suggests, sitting at the kitchen table later that night. She’s flipping through a newspaper. 

“We should have seen “Once Upon a Time in the West…” fewer subtitles.” He could hear John’s teasing voice saying to him.

“Harold?” Harold's eyes snap back to the present and focus on Grace. She’s looking at him with a frown as she laid her paper down onto the table. “Are you okay?” 

Harold picked up his fork and twirled his pasta around the prongs, “Everything’s just fine, why do you ask?” 

“You looked… strange.” Grace waved her hand in the air like she was trying to find a different word but just settled on that one. “Like you were somewhere else.”

“I’m fine, Grace…” He got up gingerly and walked over, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. When he glances back up…

He sees John. 

That unmistakable face. Those unmistakable ocean blue eyes. Those cheekbones… he just stood there. His arms crossed and his back leaning against the wall. One leg propped up behind him. Grinning at Harold. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak…

Harold stands there for a second with his mouth open. His eyes wide. His legs want to buckle under him. He clenches his eyes shut. Tries to calm his heart rate that’s thundering too loudly in his ears. 

He opens his eyes again to see Grace standing up now, looking at him with her brows furrowed and her head tilted. She’s visibly concerned. “Harold?” 

He gazes beyond her, but John is gone. All that remains is the royal blue wall of their kitchen. 

“I’m fine… I just got a little lightheaded… I think I stood up too quickly or something.” Grace doesn’t seem as though she’s buying it.

“Truly sweetheart, I’m fine.” He leans over and kisses her cheek. He’s not fine… he’s just seen his dead partner and he’s far from fine. 

“Maybe you should go lie down, I’ll clean up in here and join you when I’m finished, we’ll watch a movie or something in the bedroom, alright?” Grace see’s something in Harold’s eyes that is starting to concern her more and more lately.

Harold has always been a little quiet, a thoughtful kind of person but he’s never seemed distant before. 

Not like he’s been since he came back to her. She knows he’s been through something tragic and she hasn’t pushed him for details but she’s becoming very concerned for the man that has returned to her.

“Yes, all right I’ll go get ready for bed. Please don’t take too long.” He knows she suspects something and the last thing he wants to do is alienate her but he can’t bring himself to talk about the horrific events that are coming back and haunting him now. 

He’s still not ready and doesn’t think he ever will be. The memories are all still too fresh and painful to even consider right now.

He kisses her again and heads for the bedroom, trying to figure out what just happened. He gets to the doorway and stops short. John is sitting in the chair by the window. He blinks. Thinking that when he opens his eyes that John will be gone again. But he’s still sitting there. Smirking that teasing smirk that Harold fell in love with. 

“Hey Finch, miss me?” He speaks as he always had. With a touch of velvet in his voice followed with a playful intonation.

Harold wants to go to him and embrace him with all of the love and warmth that he never had the chance to bestow upon him before… when his world came crashing down around him for the second time in his life and it was far too late.

But as he stands there gaping at the apparition in front of his astonished eyes he can’t bring himself to speak or to move… this can’t be real. As much as he wants it to be true… he knows that John is dead and gone and he’ll never see his beloved face in reality again.

“Harold?” He hears Grace call his name from the end of the hall and he turns to look at her hesitantly and he clutches onto the doorframe for fear of collapsing to the floor.

“I’m…” He looks back to the chair by the window and John is gone. “I’m…” He begins again but finds himself falling over. His legs have gone weak and he can’t hold himself up and he slides to the floor just as Grace gets to him.

“Harold!?” He can hear her but he can’t answer, he’s in a daze with his back against the door frame.

“I’m calling an ambulance!” She tells him fearfully and heads towards the phone on the nightstand.

He finds his voice then, “No!” he says earnestly, “No please Grace, I’m alright now. Please don’t.” He sees the terror in her face as she holds the receiver in her hand.

“Please… I’m fine.” He lies and forces his legs to cooperate long enough to get him to the bed.

“Harold are you sure? There’s something wrong with you; please let me call someone.” She puts her hands on his face, feeling for a temperature but Harold knows that it isn’t the flu that’s causing his issues. It’s the intense feeling of loss and grief that is forcing itself on him and eating him alive.

#

Harold is hanging up one of his suits at the end of the day. 

He hears Grace emerge from the bathroom. 

“Harold, what do you think about getting a dog? Just a small one,” She says absently as she grabs a bottle of lotion off the mahogany dresser.

"If anyone messes with you… he’ll eat em." 

He turns around and sees Grace standing there, her lovely hair wrapped in a towel to dry and another wrapped around her petite frame.

And John is standing behind her. He’s leaning against the dresser on his elbow, his feet crossed over each other casually.

Harold’s eyes tick to him for a second and John smiles, no teeth, just that clever, conspicuous grin that John used all the time to annoy him with. 

“Harold?” Grace asks. 

“A dog?” The thought of Bear stings and Harold tries to act casual, trying not to scare her with how frightened he is by what he’s experiencing. “I don’t know Grace… I’ve never been particularly fond of animals… I mean the hair and the mess…” He looks down at his feet, avoiding Grace’s gaze. He counts to three and when he looks back up again, John is gone. 

“Okay…” Grace says, a little disappointed. 

“We’ll talk about it another time.” Harold replies and turns to go take his own shower. He hopes the hot water will help to alleviate his sudden anxiety.

#

“Harold… Can we talk?” Grace asks him gently. Coming out from the kitchen and sitting on the arm of the chair he’s sitting on in the living room. 

“What about?” Harold purses his lips and braces himself for her question. 

“Last week… when you were acting so strangely…” She put her hand on his cheek gently and looked at him with concern. 

“It was nothing Grace…” He smiled, “I just wasn’t feeling well.” 

“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?” She cleared her throat and paused for a moment before resuming, “You were gone for six years, Harold… what happened in all that time?” Grace didn’t want to push him right now if he wasn’t ready, she was used to waiting and was an expert in being patient. But she wanted to try once more before she would give him the time he clearly needed.

“Can you tell me what happened that made it so you could come back to me? I know it had to be something terrible…your awful stomach wound was a testament to that.” Grace looked into his somber eyes and hoped he would start sharing the circumstances of those horrible years that she thought he was dead. “Harold there’s something different about you.” 

“Grace… sweetheart…” He kissed her, “I promise you, there is nothing wrong. All you need to know is that something changed so I could come back… I’m fine…” 

She smiled at him, Harold knew that she wasn’t convinced, that she was just appeasing him but he couldn’t bear to speak of it. “Alright… but please, you know I’m always here if you want to talk, about anything, right?” 

“Absolutely…” Harold embraced her and pressed their lips together again, this time Grace held him there a little longer. Savoring his warm presence back in her life again.  
She put her forehead to his, “You’re sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine.” He smiled at her as convincingly as he could. 

She got up and made her way back into the kitchen. Turning back to look at him again and smiled sympathetically before entering the kitchen to clean up from breakfast. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure sitting on the coffee table beside him and was almost afraid to look. “Are you sure you’re fine Finch?” Harold turned his upper body to see him. John. 

There he was, staring back at him with a grin. 

Harold let out a breath. His hands dug into the fabric of the chair until his knuckles turned white. He closed his eyes… doesn’t dare say anything because John isn’t really there. John’s dead. He died on November 13th. Harold saw him get gunned down. He heard and felt the explosion that decimated the building John stood on.

He has to be losing his mind or he’s sick and delirious… He opens his eyes again and turns to face the coffee table. He’s gone. No one is sitting beside him, no one near enough to whisper in his ear… John’s gone. 

He starts to feel an unexpected sense of disappointment and regret.


	2. Chapter 2

They go out for an evening stroll. Harold hasn’t seen or heard anything from John in two days. He finds himself scanning the streets and sidewalks for any sign of him. He knows it’s probably a good sign that he hasn’t been back… that he’s over the hallucinations… but still he can’t bring himself to feel relief from it. He wonders if the visions have well and truly stopped for good.

Then he spots him sitting at a table outside of a bistro as they walk toward it. John smiles at him and raises a cup of tea. Harold can see the label of the bag hanging outside the cup and he knows instantly that it’s Sencha Green. “Your favorite,” John informs him as they walk past the tables.

“Harold?” Grace squeezes his hand, “Who are you looking for?” Grace thought the last couple of days were a wonderful change. Harold seemed to be relaxing a little more and present with her in a way he hadn’t been lately but maybe he’s just been hiding it better she thinks. Now she notices him looking over his shoulder and seeming a little paranoid. 

“Let’s get back,” She suggests and steers him across the street to head for home. Harold’s not saying anything and again she’s beginning to worry.

They get back and Grace takes the key from Harold’s shaking hand and unlocks the front door.

She guides him to the couch and sits down next to him appraisingly. 

She turns his face towards her and can see in his eyes that he’s spooked. “Harold you can’t go on like this, my love. Something’s tearing you apart and I can’t stand to watch it happen and not try to help.” She sees that he’s gazing past her at something and she turns to look. She doesn’t see anything but she’s sure that Harold does.

John is standing a few feet behind her and Harold can’t take his eyes off of him.

“Grace is right Harold, you can’t go on like this, you don’t want her to have to lock you away, do you?” John smiles inquisitively at him.

“I… I’m not sure.” He replies and his answer doesn’t make any sense in reply to Grace’s assertion.

“You’re not sure about what Harold?” She asks concernedly, afraid of what he’s saying.

“You’d better think of something fast Finch, she knows there’s something up and it’s not going to take long before she loses hope for you.” 

“Harold? Please talk to me.” She pleads gently, not wanting him to shut down any more than he seems to be doing already.

“I’ll go for now Harold but you really need to think things through. You don’t want to lose her all over again.” John smiles sadly and is gone as quickly as he appeared.

Harold pulls Grace to him and buries his face in her neck and weeps.

She waits for his sobbing to quiet down while she barely manages to keep herself from crying with him. She feels his breathing start to even out and he lets out a deep shaky breath. 

“I’m so sorry, Grace.” His glasses are fogged over and she takes them from his face gently and dries them off. 

She takes another tissue from the box on the coffee table and wipes the tears from his face. He submits without looking at her, staring down at the rug beneath their feet dazedly. 

“Harold…” She puts her finger under his chin and brings his gaze up to meet hers. “What’s going on? I need you to talk to me so I can help you…” She places his glasses back over his ears and sets them on the bridge of his nose. 

Harold smiles at her desolately, “I seem to be having a rather rough time adjusting to normal life again.” He speaks without thinking about what he’s saying to her and instantly regrets it.

“Normal life?” She prompts him to talk about it further but she can tell that he’s on an emotional rollercoaster and doesn’t want to push him too far. She’s so nervous for his emotional state of mind right now that she wants to break down herself but knows she can’t. He needs her to be strong for him and she’s committed to doing whatever he needs her to.

“It’s a long story, sweetheart. I really just… I need more time… please.” he replies, evading her question. He knows it’s not making things any easier but can’t he help himself from bottling it up inside. He also knows that Grace is the most kind and compassionate woman he’s ever known and he can rely on her not to be angry with him over his reluctance.

Grace stands up, “Alright… just… I’m always here for you for anything.” He knows he’s pushing her away and he feels guilty about it and hates himself but he can’t bring himself to tell her anything about what he’s been through and the people he’s lost. It’s all still too painful. He thinks that everything he’s lived the past six years will die with him. He doesn’t know what to do… he’s lost.

#

Harold’s kissing Grace. He’s lying on top of her on the couch. Enjoying the intimacy he’d sorely missed with her.

Holding himself up with his arms on either side of her head, watching her lovely face filled with passion and desire, committing it into his memory, he hears and then feels her release and his own quickly follows. 

She pulls him to her, their warm bodies pressed against each other, “Harold…” she breathes and embraces him tenderly.  
He pushes himself up to kiss her and slides his hands down her sides and buries his face into the crook of her neck with a soft sigh of contentment. He goes loose, their heavy breathing the only sounds in the room. 

He’s well and truly satisfied as is she but then John’s face suddenly comes to his mind unbidden, robbing him of this one scrap of pleasure that he’s been able to share with her. This was the one thing that could for a few minutes at a time take his mind off of everything else and now he knows it will never be the same again.

After recovering for a few moments… without a word, he picks himself up and heads toward the bathroom, grabbing his clothes from the floor. 

“Harold?” Grace asks, worriedly. They had just shared a wonderful, intimate time together but she can tell that there was a shift in his mood immediately afterward and she’s confused and again troubled by what’s happening to him.

“I’ll just be a minute…” He replies without looking back, his voice threatening to break. He opens the door with shaking hands and shuts it behind him. 

He puts his boxers back on, looking at himself in the mirror. He turns on the sink faucet and splashes cool water on his face. He keeps his gaze down into the sink. Taking deep slow breaths. 

He stands upright and John is standing behind him, looking at him through the mirror. He just grins cheekily at Harold and doesn’t say anything. 

“You’re not real…” Harold whispers, shaking his head. 

“No, I’m not.” John answers back.

“Then why are you here?” Harold asks, his gaze looking and meeting John’s with desperation in his eyes. 

“I’m here for you, Harold.” John replies mildly.

“What does that mean?” Harold throws his hands up in frustration. 

“Well, I believe Grace has tried to get you to talk about what is upsetting you on numerous occasions already.” John offered quietly, trying to dissipate Harold’s heightening emotions.

“I know what’s upsetting me.” He leans back over the sink and splashes cold water over his face again. “Talking won’t bring you back.” He looks at John and waits for a response.

John shakes his head. “It won’t.”

“All it will do is ruin what we have…” Harold sits down on the edge of the bathtub. 

“I can’t lose her too…” He sighs and turns his attention to the door. “Not again.”

“You’re sitting in the bathroom talking to your dead partner after you’ve just had sex with your fiancé, Harold…” John’s brow raises. “Things aren’t looking good…” 

“I’m fine…we’re fine…” Harold snaps back, standing up to leave the room. 

“Alright.” John shrugs. “Just making a point.” He adds and turns to follow Harold out. 

Grace is sitting up on the couch now, dressed back in her pajamas, pretending to watch the television that’s now on. “Everything okay, sweetheart?” She turns her attention back to him as casually as she can. 

Harold try’s to ignore John standing right there beside her. He puts his undershirt back over his head and goes over to sit next to Grace. He puts his arm around her and pulls her in close, “You know how I am about cleanliness… everything’s fine.” Harold teases and kisses her on the forehead. 

John walks over and leans down, whispers in Harold’s ear, “Are you sure about that?”

Harold closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, still trying to ignore him and when he opens them again John is gone. 

#

“I’m going to go to the museum to meet with the curator Harold, care to join me?” Grace wants to get Harold out of the house; she’s afraid to leave him alone, for his state of mind, but she can’t convince him to talk to her and she knows him well enough not to mention the word psychiatrist.

“No sweetheart you go ahead, I’d just be in the way.” He knows she’s worried about him but all he’s willing to do at this point is to wait it out and hope things get better… hope that John stops showing up.

He knows it’s not normal or healthy, seeing John, and thinks that he may be going insane so he starts investigating the symptoms of schizophrenia and also, God forbid, Alzheimer’s disease. He prays that what he’s been experiencing isn't a symptom of that horrifying condition in particular. 

Harold had been robbed of his father at a fairly young age… he wouldn’t want to live like he had… with the knowledge that he would slowly and forever lose all of his memories and physical abilities and the vast knowledge that he prides himself on possessing would be intolerable. He decided early on that he would never live that way.

But Grace is well aware that something’s very wrong with him and it’s only a matter of time before she brings it up again.  
So he’s only been able to have a few minutes here and there to do research on the diseases… on the rare occasions she leaves him alone.

So he’s been checking into the symptoms online every chance he can get. Grace doesn’t even know he possesses a computer and at first he hadn’t. But old habits die hard and he’s been highly concerned now with his sanity since he began seeing John and he procured one the first chance he got.

Grace had left him alone for just over an hour once recently and he took the opportunity to buy one from a store just down the street. The first time he opened the laptop and hit the power button… he felt a phantom charge of electricity run through him. It was only then that he realized how much he had missed the feel of the keyboard beneath his fingers. And when he glanced up… there was John.

“Are you sure you want to know?” He had asked him. “Really Harold?” John grinned at him from across the bedroom where Harold had the computer hidden in his bottom dresser drawer.

“I have to know John.” He replied and then thought it was a bit strange but not unwelcomed that he was interacting more and more with the apparition. “I can’t go through that. I can’t put Grace through it either.”

“So, what are you saying?” John looked at him sadly.

“I’m not saying anything right now John, I’m doing research, why can’t you just leave me in peace?!” Harold’s nerves were shot this day for some reason. He’d started having painful headaches a lot and they made him more irritable than he could remember ever being before.

“Is that what you want?” John asked pointedly, “If you really don’t want me here then you’d better figure it out Harold. You’re the reason I’m here. I’m your hallucination.”

“Is that what you are? A hallucination?” Harold asked, taking his attention from the laptop and putting it on John. 

“I don’t know… am I?” John asked, the side of his mouth quirked up. 

Harold glared at him with frustration. Then turned his attention back to the computer that was booting up in front of him. The Windows Welcome screen showing that it’s loading. 

“I shouldn’t even be talking to you…” Harold sighed. 

“Yet here we are,” John smiles and tossed his hands in the air, motioning to the room around him. “You really must want to see me or I wouldn’t be here.”

Harold turned his whole body to look at him square in the face, “If I stop talking to you, will you leave me alone?” 

“Do you want to stop talking to me? Do you really want me to leave you alone?” John asked cheekily.

“Will you please just answer the question?” Harold replies with a look of complete despair and closed his eyes. When he opens them John is gone.

He closes up the laptop, he can’t stand to be in the bedroom any longer and can’t concentrate long enough to get any research done and he hides the computer back in the drawer. 

He leaves the room and goes to the kitchen where he can look outside the window as he sits at the breakfast table. He watches the street and the people walking by trying to take his mind off of everything for just a little while. But it’s impossible and then he hears John’s voice again.

“It’s okay to miss me…” Harold sees him out of the corner of his eye, John’s in the doorway and moves closer to him. He kneels next to where Harold’s sitting in the chair looking outside but not really seeing anything. 

Harold tries to ignore him but he can’t. He can’t get John out of his head. “You’re not real,” Harold starts. “You’re dead…” He gets up from the table and walks around John and over to the other side of the room. He clenches his eyes shut, “You’re not real... you’re not real… you’re not real…” 

“Harold…” John whispers. “Look at me.” 

Harold opens his eyes, tears running down his cheeks. He hesitantly turns around… and John stands in front of him, very close, and he looks into his blue eyes. 

“Touch me,” John whispers. 

Harold doesn’t realize what he’s doing and before he knows it his hand is moving up and towards John’s chest. Slowly and guardedly, he puts the palm of his hand over John’s heart. He can feel the material of John’s clothing… he can feel the solidity of his body and the heart beating under his trembling hand. 

“What…?” Harold gasps in disbelief. His eyes growing wide and more tears are silently streaming down his cheeks. 

John smiles, covering Harold’s hand with his own, “I told you Harold… I’m here for you…” 

Harold smiled and closed his eyes and wept quietly; when he opened them again, John was gone and his hand is hovering in the empty space in front of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Harold sits outside a café in the city, enjoying the weather and the view. The location of their home is ideal, they never have to walk very far to get anywhere and they love the variety of shops and restaurants in the area.

Grace had left for a museum opening earlier in the morning. Three of her paintings were going to be exhibited. Harold loved seeing her so excited. It was like witnessing all of her dreams coming true right in front of his eyes and he couldn’t have been happier for her. 

Grace knows now that he has a laptop, she thinks it might be good for him to have something to occupy his mind again and she would never dream that it might be a bad thing for him. 

Harold still hasn’t told her anything of the time they’d been apart and he’s become much better at hiding the things that are still happening to him from her now. So she’s been giving him a little bit more time to himself feeling as though he’s finally coming around and living in the present again.

What she doesn’t realize of course is that Harold is seeing John and has accepted John’s visitations and looks forward to seeing him, even though John doesn’t always have anything helpful to say in his remarks. Mostly John insists to him that he’s manifesting him and Harold needs to fix the problem and he hates to hear that sort of thing. He’s grown fond of being with John again.

Harold turned his attention to the computer sitting in front of him. A webpage he brought up regarding hallucinations. 

“Italy is so much quieter than New York.” 

Harold looks over to John who’s now sitting in the chair across from his at the table. 

“Yes, most places are quieter than New York…” Harold replies nonchalantly but can’t help the grin that emerges on his face. 

John smiles and chuckles a little bit. “You always liked the rare quiet times, didn’t you?” 

Harold smiles and nods. He picks up his cup, sipping his coffee. Somehow, he’s developed a taste for the strong bold flavor of it since he’d arrived in Europe. 

“Still with the three-piece suits…” John continues, “You know, you’re retired now Harold. You could at least cut down on the wardrobe.” 

“I’m most comfortable in a suit,” Harold chuckles, “You know that.” 

“I do…” John sits up in his chair, “Find anything interesting?” He peeks over Harold’s computer screen.

The information he’s been able to decipher isn’t promising.  
“Well…” Harold sighs pensively, “I either have Alzheimer’s, which means I’ll slowly lose my mind… a brain tumor which means I’ll quickly lose my mind… or I’m crazy and have already lost my mind.” John’s smile fades at the expression of solemnity on Harold’s face. 

“You can’t just tell me why you’re here, can you?” Harold asks grimly. 

“I’m here for you Harold,” John replied evenly. 

“Yes, you keep saying that. But if you could elaborate, it might be helpful.” Harold set down his cup and looked at John.

“You’re the genius, Harold. Figure it out.” John’s casual reply doesn’t do much for his peace of mind and he takes a deep breath and focuses back on the screen.

“You’re scone, sir.” Harold looks up at the young waiter who has a passable English accent and was waiting next to him holding a plate. “Sir?” 

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry,” he replies feeling a bit self-conscious at the realization that he could be perceived just now of having a rather strange conversation with himself. 

The young man nods and sets Harold’s order down in front of him. He flashes Harold an awkward smile and goes back inside the café.

Harold looks back to the chair where John was, but now he’s gone again. He picks up his scone and takes a small bite. He shuts his laptop and leaves a $20 bill on the table. 

Back in the apartment, he lies on his side of the bed for what seemed like hours opening and closing his eyes, waiting expectantly… nervously, both hoping and fearing that John will hurry back. He’s got a splitting headache which only compounds his depressed emotional state until he finally nods off.

#

Grace and Harold are at the animal shelter one day. 

“Oh, isn’t this one adorable, Harold?” Grace is so excited as she’s holding a sweet, fluffy, tiny gray little dog. 

Harold chuckles at her, “Yes, he is.” He scratches the dog behind the ear. He looks up from the dog and John is there, standing behind Grace. 

“He’s a lot smaller than Bear…” John quips with a smirk.

Harold ignores him put can’t help the grin that comes to his face at John’s playfully annoyed attitude. Harold watches Grace with the little dog and smiles at the sight of them. 

“You know, you should call Shaw… check in. Bear probably misses you.” John walks around, petting some of the other dogs. 

Harold still doesn’t acknowledge John but his smile fades. He leans in to press a kiss to Grace’s lips, “I think we should get him. He looks like he needs a loving home and an attentive mommy.” 

“Really?” Grace’s smile brightens, “Alright, but only if you’re sure, Harold.” 

“Are you sure you can handle a dog, Harold?” John moves up right beside Harold and speaks directly into his ear, “You’ve already got a lot going on in your mind and as you well know a dog requires a lot of attention.” 

“Will you please just…!” Harold snaps out, his voice raised and his eyes darting over to the space next to him. He stops himself before he goes any further, turning back and seeing the look of shock and concern on Grace’s face. 

“Harold?” Grace asks, setting the dog back into the pen. “What’s wrong?” She puts her hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes. 

“Uh-oh…” John smirks. 

“I’m fine Grace… I just got a little overwhelmed… there’s just so many dogs in here that all need a good home.” He tried his best at a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry, I’m fine.”

“Okay…” Grace gave him a skeptical once over, “Maybe we should just go home…” 

When Harold turns back to glare at John he’s gone.

#

On the way home from the shelter Harold can’t stop thinking about his partner. He’s seeing him frequently and although he knows that he shouldn’t be seeing him, much less interacting with him, he finds it painful to contemplate life without him.

But now he’s becoming hesitant to be intimate with Grace; now that John seems to show up at any moment. Some things are meant to be private and even though he and John were never intimate… he still feels guilty when he makes love to her.

“Harold?” Grace breaks him from his thoughts as they snuggle on the couch that evening.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He thinks he can tell what she wants to ask him and he’s dreading her question. She’s starting to take more notice of his odd behavior again and he knows that the outburst at the shelter frightened her… he holds his breath and waits for her to ask what’s wrong with him again. 

But she doesn’t ask that question, “Kiss me…” She requests and he feels somewhat relieved that another day has gone by where he’s gotten away without having to avoid the subject again. 

He sighs in relief and turns to look at her warmly and leans over and brushes the hair away from her face. He smiles at her and puts his hand on her cheek and guides their lips together and kisses her. Of all the things he’d missed when being apart from her the kisses they had shared were at the top of his list.

“I love you Grace.” He tells her and pulls her closer. “I’ve always loved you, my darling.” He pulls her in and wraps his arms around her and pulls her in tighter and kisses her passionately and she’s basking in his affection.

They are enjoying each other; fondling and teasing the places on their bodies that the other knows so well, arousal happening gradually and pleasurably, reaching further heights of desire.

“She is a beautiful woman, Harold; I have to give you that,” John says huskily in his ear.

Harold startles and pulls away from her suddenly and opens his eyes, seeing fear in her expression again. John sits facing him behind her, grinning openly.

“Harold? Please tell me what’s happening to you!” Grace is scared to death. 

She can’t let this go on, she has to convince him to get checked out. She doesn’t want to lose him again and can’t stand to see him this way.

“I… I just… I can’t…” Harold stumbles over the words. He can’t find what he wants to say. He keeps looking at John. “I can’t do this… why are you…?” 

“Can’t do what, Harold?” Grace asks gently, moving closer to him. She puts her hands on his knees offering as much comfort as she can muster. “You’re scaring me, Harold…” 

Harold keeps staring over her shoulder at something or someone and her fear hits an all-time high. 

“I… I’m fine… I’m sorry…” She sees the anxiety that has built up in his eyes as he tries to deflect the situation once more and she’s now near her breaking point.

“Stop saying you’re fine! You’re not fine, Harold!” Grace puts her hands on either side of his face and makes him look at her, “Something happened to you… something horrible and I get that. I understand that it’s seems impossible to talk about… but you can’t go on like this! You can’t keep everything bottled up inside you! Please Harold!” 

“Better tell her something, Finch…” John now stands beside him and leans over and puts a finger on Harold’s temple and runs it up through his hair. 

Harold does his best not to flinch and his mind works frantically to say something to her, to finally give her some clue of what he had been through the past six years.

John stands upright and lays a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “Go ahead, she deserves to know.”

Harold closes his eyes and takes a long deep breath and musters the courage to tell her.

“Grace… I just…” he takes another breath and concentrates. “When I left New York behind… I left that life, that existence behind… and there were people who had… meant a great deal to me… and…” He pauses and starts to feel warm, his temperature is rising and he feels his heart pounding in his chest.

Grace frowned in understanding, “You lost friends that you loved?” 

Harold grimaced at the word friends. John was more than a friend… hell Root and Elias even were more than friends. 

And they had all sacrificed their lives for his. 

“Yes…” He breathed out and to his surprise he started to feel a tad bit relieved so he went further. 

He told her about how he had lost more than one friend but the one in particular, the one closest to him, he couldn’t tell her about. He still couldn’t speak his name out loud. He only told her the bare minimum before he broke down and Grace comforted him and assured him that she could wait a little while longer for him to be able to talk about it again.

Later that night, he sat up at the kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee. He had slipped out of the room after Grace had fallen asleep. 

“I think she’s off your case for a while, Harold.” John appeared out of nowhere on the chair next to him. 

“I talked to her… yet you’re still here…” Harold replied casually. 

“You don’t seem very upset by that.” John replied, his trademark smirk present. 

Harold doesn’t reply to that. He doesn’t reply because deep down he knows John’s right. Some part of him doesn’t want John to leave… not ever again.

“Grace thinks I should see a therapist…” Harold says after a stretch of silence. 

“I don’t think that’s the type of doctor you need to see, Harold,” John replies, a sad smile replacing the smirk on his face.

Harold looks up at him, his eyes narrowing… “So, I’m… sick?” Harold huffs, “Is that what this is?” 

Before Harold can even take another breath… John is gone. 

#

“Harold, where are you going again?” Grace asks, coming up around him and planting a kiss on his cheek. She’s not as worried with him being on his own as much as she had been when he his behavior had first changed. The scrap of information he’d shared with her made her feel a little bit better about a few things.

“I’m just going to go get an adapter for my laptop, maybe freshen up on the latest technology. Maybe hit a couple of book stores…” He put his jacket over his shoulder. “I should be back by dinner.” 

“Will it take that long? Do you want me to go with you?” She smiled. 

“Oh no, it’s fine, you know how engrossed I can get into things. You have painting to do, I wouldn’t want to distract you from your work.” Harold kissed her again and turned to walk toward the door. 

“Okay, I’ll see you when you get home sweetheart.” Grace watched him go and couldn’t help but to feel a little bit nervous. He seems to be slowly coming around so she tells herself that it’s nothing and goes back to her painting, trying to relax the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Harold smiled at her and closed the door behind him. He got into the elevator in their building and the doors slowly closed in front of him. 

“Somehow, I don’t believe you’re headed to the electronics store…” John chuckled, now standing beside him. 

“As if you didn’t already know. You’re the one who told me to go to the doctor,” Harold sighed, keeping his attention on the floor numbers as the lift descended. 

John frowned, “Yes, I did.”

“But you can’t tell me why? You know it would be a lot easier if you just told me why you’re here instead of hearing it from a doctor…” 

“I’ve already told you Finch.” John’s expression turned somber, “I’m here for you.” 

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, Harold looked at the space beside him, John was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

“Mister Martin.” Harold was startled from his thoughts when the doctor entered the office abruptly. Closing the door behind him he turned and offered Harold his hand. Finch stood up and returned the formal greeting and sat back down in the chair he had been sitting in waiting anxiously. The doctor made his way around and sat behind his desk.

Harold had already had a CAT scan an MRI and EEG. He’d had just about every test that dealt with the brain known to man and now he was meeting a specialist. 

Harold smiled nervously, bracing himself for the news. He was all but convinced that he had the dreaded disease that had taken his father from him. 

“It’s Alzheimer’s… isn’t it?” Harold blurted, not being able to stand the seemingly prolonged silence and the look of gloom he perceived on the doctor’s face. 

The doctor looked at him in shock for a moment then slowly shook his head with sad decisiveness. “No sir… It’s not Alzheimer’s disease. 

For a moment Harold wasn’t sure he heard him right, then immediately felt his whole body fill with relief. He exhaled a deep, shuddering breath. But then he quickly realized that the doctor’s expression was not one of good news… 

“I’m truly sorry Mister Martin but I’m afraid that your brain scans show that you have a fairly large tumor.” He gave Harold a moment to digest the news before he went further. 

Harold felt a wave of heat flood through him and his brows creased in thought, he can’t quite grasp what he’s just been told, he didn’t expect a tumor of all things. Then he hears the doctor continue to speak and he has to purposely concentrate on his words to comprehend their meaning as too many thoughts whirl around in his head.

The doctor turns on the x-ray illuminator sitting behind him and pulls two different scans from a folder and affixes them to the light box. He turns around so Harold can see the images and points to the different areas of the brain affected as he explains. 

“It’s pressing against your Occipital lobe, Parietal lobe, and Temporal lobe.” 

Harold’s stomach dropped. He heard the doctor say it… and can see the scans as unquestioning proof but it still wasn’t registering. He felt almost as if he was having an out of body experience. 

The doctor keeps talking but Harold’s not even trying to understand at this point, he feels close to falling over from the unexpected diagnosis and the alarming data he’s being bombarded with isn’t sinking in coherently.

Then the doctor goes quiet, he sees that Harold is dazed and waits until he’s looking at him before he continues. He needs Harold to hear him, especially now and he smiles at him sadly before he drops the biggest bombshell on him.

Harold takes a deep breath when his brain catches up and looks at the doctor when he realizes that he’s being waited on. He can tell that it’s going to be worse yet.

“Given the size of the tumor… and the location…" and then he pauses and Harold can tell that it's not an easy task for the man but he continues, "I’m very sorry sir but I’m afraid it’s inoperable and given the advanced stage… I’m afraid there are no viable treatment options open to you that could remedy the condition.” The doctor finished and waited patiently for any questions Harold might have.

At first Harold wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. The irony of the diagnosis and subsequent prognosis was not lost on him and ultimately he just felt numb.

He’d survived the ferry bombing and the war with Samaritan and now… this? He was going to die of a brain tumor not even a year after he was able to go back to the woman he loves. 

The doctor went on and on about how there were excellent support groups and that he could try different treatments... but everything was pointing to a gradual and at some point very soon… a painful death. 

Harold tuned him out about halfway through the options of prolonging the inevitable. He couldn’t think about that part right now. All he could think about was Grace. What this would do to her.

He left the office speechless and got back into his car and sat numbly, shutting the door and putting the key into the ignition, his hands gripped the wheel. His knuckles turning white, he let his head fall forward against the steering wheel. 

He felt tears start to run down his cheeks. Sobs wracked his frame. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, a comforting weight. He looked over to see John sitting in the passenger seat, smiling sadly. 

“You knew all along didn’t you?” Harold asked him angrily.

John looked at him sympathetically, “As a very wise man once said, knowing isn’t always a blessing, Harold.”

“The doctor’s prognosis wasn’t good but he didn’t give me an exact time frame… do you know how long I have, John?”

John was quiet for a long moment and Harold took it to mean that he knew and it wouldn’t be long.

“It’s going to be relatively short Harold. I’m sorry for that but what concerns me more is that at some point in the very near future it’s going to become extremely painful. You’ve already had some pretty rough headaches and it’s only going to get worse from here.” 

Harold sat back into his seat and stared outside the front windshield. “Pain is something I’m intimately familiar with as you know.”

John nodded, “But this will be different Harold.” Harold knew that John meant it wouldn’t all just be physical pain but the mental anguish of losing his memory and his intellect as well. For Harold… that would be the bitterest pill to swallow.

“Will I completely lose my mind?” He asked hesitantly, dazedly, not looking at John, still fixated on gazing blindly through the windshield.

“There will come a time that your memory will be all but gone but for short intervals here and there it will come back entirely.” John watched Harold, expecting to see some change in his stoic expression but he didn’t falter. The only indication of feeling were the deep breaths he took and the silent tears that ran from his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, John.” Harold finally looked at him desolately. “You gave your life for mine and now…”

John smiled at him, “I would have given my life for yours if it only meant you living for another minute, Harold.” He squeezed Harold’s shoulder, “Believe that.”

Harold closed his eyes. “I do John… as much as I hated what you did… I was finally able to accept and honor your sacrifice. And to have Grace back…” Harold took a shuddering breath, “My God, what about Grace?” Harold started to feel panic rise up in his chest.

“Try not to worry about Grace right now Harold. First you have to decide how you’re going to handle the end of your life.” John pursed his lips and added, “Then you can decide how to break it to her.”

Harold nodded and looked into John’s eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell me from the start John? Why did you wait so long?”

John looked away for a moment and explained, “There was no reason to make you suffer with the knowledge until you were ready to find out on your own.” John turned back to him and smiled sadly. “It would still have been inoperable... even when I was alive it was there. There wouldn’t have been anything that could have been done. It’s a one in a million condition Harold, you were always going to die from it… I’m sorry.”

“So you just let me believe that I was losing my mind when you could have just told me the truth from the start?” Harold felt anger welling in him at John’s omission.

“Harold… if I had told you all those months ago… would you still be here?”

Harold looked at him for a moment then finally realized what John had meant.  
If he had found out then what was going to happen to him… he would have agonized over it and been more worried than if he hadn’t known and most likely would have had a death wish. 

“But Grace? If I’d known before I went back to her I wouldn’t have put her in this position. I would have let her believe me to be dead.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, “This is going to be another crushing blow to her.” 

He felt terrible for now having to break the news to her that he was dying. She’d already accepted it the first time she thought he was gone forever and now she’s going to lose him for a second time as she now has to watch him die a little at a time.

“Harold,” John began. “You and Grace deserve to be together for whatever time you have left. I’m certain that she would have wanted to have you back with her regardless of the circumstances and you deserve to have her loving presence in your life before you have to say goodbye to her for good.” 

John took Harold’s hand and squeezed it, “Please be as happy as you can with her for the time you have left.”

Harold looked down at their entwined hands and nodded sadly. “Will you stay with me until the end, John?”

“Of course, I will.” John replied.

“John…I’m not going to let it go until I can’t even remember my own name, you know that don’t you?” He looked at his partner. “And I’m not going to allow Grace to take care of me when I can’t take care of myself. I won’t put her through that.” He looked deeply into John’s eyes with firm resolution. “You understand me, don’t you John? You know what I’m saying right?”

John looked away, “I understand Finch.”  
“Good. That’s important.” Harold cleared his throat and wiped the tears from his face. He put the car in drive and headed home… his mind racing about how he was going to tell Grace… 

#

“Oh good, you’re just in time for dinner. I would’ve hated for it to have gotten cold.” Grace came over to meet him at the door and pecked a kiss to his lips. 

He hung up his coat and walked over to her in the kitchen and she turned to face him again, “It smells delicious.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him in a loving embrace and pressed an earnest kiss to her lips again. He never wanted to let her go and he tried his best to put on a cheerful facade. 

He wasn’t ready to tell her yet. 

He couldn’t bear to tell her. She would be absolutely devastated. She had just gotten him back… and now she was going to lose him again. Lose him forever this time. 

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” Grace’s expression fell, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Harold huffed, a painful laugh coming out of his mouth, “I’m fine my love. What did you make?” He quickly changed the subject and tried to seem interested in the meal she’d made though he had absolutely no appetite.

“One of your favorites.” She smiled and motioned to the table, “Steak Diane.” 

Harold smiled, trying to hide the tears that came to his eyes.

“Harold, relax. I know it’s hard… but I want you to enjoy this… when was the last time you had anyone make you Steak Diane? I mean really.” She smiled at him playfully and then John appeared beside her. 

Harold let out a deep breath. Relaxing a fraction and taking in the sight of his beautiful fiancé standing in front of him and his loving partner beside her. 

He kissed her, “I love you Grace.” He embraced her again and looked over at John standing near trying to pretend he wasn’t witnessing the tender show of affection he was privy to.

“I love you.” Harold said again but this time he meant it for John and his partner looked back at him then and knew it was for him and he smiled sadly in return then vanished.

Grace chuckled when they broke away, “I think I’ll make this dinner more often…” she replied innocently.


	5. Chapter 5

Harold and Grace were lying in bed later the next evening. They’re kissing each other ardently, he’s draped half over her, enjoying the sensation of touch… his hand caressing and feeling the softness of her warm supple skin.

She sighs pleasurably and kisses him in return, running her hands over his back. He makes an encouraging sound against her mouth. She kisses him deeper, moving one hand to stroke up his neck and runs her fingers through his hair pulling him closer still. 

Suddenly, the terrible news he has yet to share with her disrupts the moment and forces its way into the forefront of his thoughts, destroying all pleasure he'd been enjoying. He can’t continue and he breaks the intimacy with a choked sob and pulls away from her.

He finds he has tears streaming down his face. He sits up and turns his back to her and sits on the edge of the bed with intense emotions running through him.  
She can see from behind that his breathing is ragged and too fast. He appears as though he’s about to have some sort of attack. She’s terrified at how quickly this has all just happened. 

“Harold?” She moves over to him and put her hands on his shoulders from behind, “Harold, sweetie breathe…” She tries to relax him. 

He takes in a deep shuddering breath and another and when he looks up John is there, “Tell her, Harold…” He frowns, leaning against the dresser. “She deserves to know… she needs to know.” Harold knows John is right.

“Grace this has gone on long enough...” He begins after a few long moments of slowing his breathing down. He turns his body to face her and takes her hands into his and looks into her eyes.

He pauses, he has to look away from her sorrowful gaze to recover his nerve. “Tell her Harold.” John says to him emphatically and is now sitting at the foot of the bed encouraging him to continue. “You can do it.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Grace knows now that he’s been keeping her in the dark much more than she’d imagined. The look on his face scares the hell out of her but she has to know.

“Have you seen someone about what’s been haunting you?” She asks gently.

Harold chuckles at the irony and looks over to John, “You could say that.” But he’s not going to tell her about him. The prognosis of his fatal illness is enough for her to have to deal with; he’s not going to add that he’s regularly seeing and talking to his dead partner on top of the devastating news.

“Grace my love.” He starts again anxiously and sees the fear in her eyes but he has to get through it, “I began checking into certain illnesses… the symptoms I’m having haven’t dissipated and in fact they’re getting worse.” He sees her eyes begin to well with tears and has to close his own to continue.

“You’re doing fine Harold, keep going.” He hears John encourage him and the comfort from just his soothing and steady voice gives him the strength to continue. He opens his eyes to meet hers again.

“I’ve had extensive testing done on my brain and the news isn’t good I’m afraid.”

Grace is quiet but tears start to flow and Harold can’t stand the desolation he sees in her eyes. He pulls her trembling body close to his own and breaks down and cries with her.

He looks over to see that John now has tears in his eyes as well and John smiles reassuringly at him then nods his approval and encouragement before he vanishes to leave Harold to sort through the details with his love privately.

They hold each other tightly and when their tears have slowed he pulls away from her and wipes the wetness from her face and then from his own.

She gazes at him sorrowfully and asks the question before he has even fully told her the most important fact. She knew the moment the words left his mouth that he was going to die… she didn’t need to hear the words spoken.

“There’s no hope?” She asks, but again she already knows the answer… she can’t help herself.

Harold shakes his head in surrender and brings her hands to his lips. “I’m so sorry Grace… if I’d known before… I wouldn’t have come back only to put you through losing me all over again.”

“Oh, Harold please don’t say that… I’m so grateful to have you with me now. I can’t express to you how wonderful it has been to have every minute we’ve shared together again.” She touched her hand to his cheek and the tears flowed again.

“How long have you known?” She asked tremulously.

“I’ve only just found out that what I have is fatal, but as you already know… I have been acting strangely for some time now.” He smiles as well as he can, “I’m sorry I tried to keep it hidden but I wasn’t aware of what was happening myself.”

She wants to ask the obvious question… how long do you have? But can’t manage to get the words out.

“Where do we go from here… how is it going to progress?” She hates those questions as well but she has to be as strong for him as she possibly can. “How do we make the time you have left… meaningful?” She chokes out.

“Grace… every second I have with you is meaningful.” He kisses her hands and swallows the lump in his throat before he continues. “As far as the progression… I’m afraid the symptoms I have already will steadily worsen.”

“What do you mean?” She asks hesitantly, she hates to have to even think about such things. She wants to curl up in the bed and wake up to find that this is all just a horrific nightmare but she knows painfully well that it’s a living nightmare that neither of them is going to wake from.

“Grace… my memory will be affected and at some point who I am now is going to disappear.” He took a deep breath and continued, “There will also be pain involved… I have a… a large tumor in my brain and it’s increasing in size rapidly.”

The horror now in her expression takes the breath from him. He pulls her to him again and rocks her in his arms as she weeps uncontrollably… until she has nothing left. He holds her quietly with his own emotions spinning out of control until she has shed every tear from her eyes and she lies limp in his embrace.

Harold presses soft kisses to her head while it rests on his chest. Murmuring soft reassurances to her, giving her all the time she needs. 

After a time, when she’s quieted, he takes more tissues from the box on the nightstand and gently lifts her from his arms to sit up. He wipes the tears from her cheeks and runs his hand slowly and lovingly over her hair. 

She presses her trembling lips to his and when they break away, she finally asks the question she’s been dreading to know since the beginning of his confession, “How long?” 

Harold smiled sadly, “The doctor said it could be as long as a year… or it could be…” Harold trailed off. He couldn’t bear to keep talking. Couldn’t stand to tell her the shortest amount of time that the doctor had projected. 

“Or it could be what…?” She asked anxiously. 

“As little as months… possibly weeks.” He huffed, a tear coming to his eye. He blinked, letting it slide down his cheek. 

Grace’s expression broke. She buried her face into Harold’s chest and started to sob again. She just got him back and now she was going to lose him again. 

“It’s not… fair,” she wept. 

Harold pulled her closer, his chin resting on her head and running his hands softly up and down her back. “I know…” He felt the tears start to flow from his own eyes again as well, “I know my love…” 

He held her close while she calmed down some again, waiting for her sobbing to abate. “Grace…I want you to know that I don’t want you to have to take care of me… at the end…” He let out a breath, “You shouldn’t have to go through that… I don’t want you to have to go through that.” 

She pulled away and looked up at him and cleared her throat, “Harold. I’m not leaving you. Never. Not even then. I will be by your side until you’re…” More tears quietly trickled down her cheeks, “Gone…” 

He brought her back in to a warm embrace and pressed a kiss to her cheek, “Alright.” He told her that he would let her be there until the end but what he would never tell her was that he would end things himself when the time came. 

Harold had spoken with John and they had an agreement. If and when Harold reached the point that he could no longer function on his own… he would end his own life. He refused to put her through the pain of witnessing him getting to the point of not recognizing who she was and all of the wonderful things that they had shared together. He would not die as his father had.

#

It had been about a week since the prognosis. Grace seemed to be… dealing with it, as well as she could. 

He went on his own one day and gotten everything in order. He had to do it now before his mind started to leave him. He put her name on all of his bank accounts. Setting her up for the rest of her life many times over. Another omission of his life he’d kept from her and that Grace would find out only after his death was just how wealthy he was. 

After the war with Samaritan he'd been able to re-establish most of his frozen accounts and was once again a multi-billionaire. He had procured an attorney and arranged for hefty donations to the specific organizations that they each shared a fondness for. And she would be an extremely wealthy woman for the rest of her life.

Harold considered the fact that they had never gotten married and that perhaps they should take care of that now but then decided against it. He couldn’t bring himself to encourage her to marry him. He still possessed far too many secrets and felt unworthy of her. He would only reconsider if she broached the subject, until then there would be no talk of marriage.

The days flew by with regular visits from John and he and Grace enjoyed their time together as much as they could with the knowledge of his eminent death hanging over them. He hadn’t shown many signs of his illness worsening apart from the occasional headache until three weeks later. 

It was then that he began to have severe and excruciating headaches and from time to time he would forget simple things like misplacing his keys and where he set things down and such. 

And then the seizures started.

Grace came out of the bedroom one morning after she had heard a loud thud that came from the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes, clearing the foggy sleepiness from them.

“Harold?” She called out and entered the room. 

She looked down in terror to see him lying on the kitchen floor, convulsing and salivating. 

“Harold!” She ran over to him and fell to her knees. His eyes were rolled to the back of his head and his entire body shook uncontrollably. After a few terrifying moments the fit began to calm down and he slowly became aware of his surroundings again. She desperately wanted to call an ambulance but he forbid her to do so.

“Please Harold!” She had begged him and then finally took charge and decided on her own to make the call... against his wishes


	6. Chapter 6

“Ms. Hendricks…” The doctor introduced himself shaking her hand and showed her into his office. He was an American doing his residency in Italy and had already made a name for himself in his chosen specialty. She found that his confident demeanor and friendly personality made her feel a little more comfortable and the language barrier not being an issue was a definite plus.

Although she and Harold were both fluent in the Italian language, somehow having a fellow American taking care of her love made Grace feel a bit more relaxed with entrusting Harold’s welfare to a complete stranger.

He explained to her in detail what was happening currently and Harold’s condition as it stood now. “This could be a one-time thing but more than likely it’s just the beginning.” He smiled at her sadly, “It will continue to happen with more frequency and the effects will only worsen for him as time goes on.”

They sat in his office while Harold was being attended to and the young doctor began to explain to her in more detail the specifics of Harold’s devastating illness.

“I’m afraid what’s happening is that the tumor is growing exponentially and it’s pushing against the sensory neurons in one of the three primary sections of the brain. That's what caused the seizure."

Grace sat but felt as though she was suspended in space. Hearing what she was being told but somehow removed from the reality of it as though she was an observer in a horror show with no way to escape it.

The doctor closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath before he continued. “Ms. Hendricks… as I have explained to your fiancé, there really isn’t anything we can do to successfully cure him of his condition or to treat it. There is no surgery safe enough to garner a positive outcome and even chemotherapy isn’t a viable option at this point.

“Given the advance stage and the severity of his condition, I can’t in good conscience recommend something that has no chance of making him better. I will not offer anything that may cause his condition to accelerate the prognosis and kill him sooner than if we did nothing at all.” He took a deep breath and looked at Grace sadly.

“I’m afraid the best we can hope for is that he have a short respite from the pain now and then when it gets to be unbearable. I will make sure that he gets the best pain medication possible for as long as he wants or needs it.” He smiled again gloomily before he finished.

“There will come a time when even the most potent pain killers that exist won’t be enough... I’m very sorry.”

Grace took a deep shuddering breath, “Is there anything that can be done to stop the seizures or to deter them in any way?” Grace cleared her throat, drying the tears that had run down her cheeks.

“We will prescribe him anti-seizure medications and some other things that should help and a steroid to attempt to help slow the growth of the tumor.” The doctor frowned, “But I’m afraid those are all just temporary fixes and may not end up working at all… they may even cause added discomfort, we won’t know until he tries them.”

Grace nodded numbly, “Okay... Thank you, doctor. May I see him now?”

 

He smiled at her faintly and nodded, “Of course. I’ll take you to him. We have to keep him here for an hour or so for observation; we've administered the first round of the medications we discussed and once those are done, then you can take him home.”

She smiled mechanically and followed the doctor back to the ER bay Harold was in. He was lying back on a gurney. “Harold…” Grace breathed out and hurried over to him. She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him tenderly.

He chuckled and smiled at her, “It’s good to see you too, sweetheart.”

“I’ll leave you to it," The doctor teased, “Take it easy Mister Martin.” The doctor smiled and shook Harold’s hand and left them to themselves.

“Thank you, doctor.” Harold called after him as he disappeared around the corner.

“You scared me. Don’t ever do that again.” Grace pulled a chair closer to Harold’s bedside. Grabbing his hand, she continued, “Do you need anything? Water?”

Harold’s eyes darted to the space beside her where John had been standing the whole time, observing the activity of the nurses as they checked and re-checked Harold’s vitals until they finally left, leaving just the two of them. John smiled at Harold watching Grace being so attentive and sweet to him.

“Some water would be lovely, if you could,” He replied.

She smiled and kissed him again before she got up and went to go find him a bottle of water. Harold watched on, content but concerned as she walked out.

“She’s going to be fine, Harold.” John came over and sat down in the chair that Grace had been in.

“I know…” Harold sighed, his head falling back to the pillow.

“You should call Shaw…” John started but stopped when Harold glared at him.

“Why? Why seek her out only to tell her that I’m dying.” Harold raised his voice in irritation.

Grace opened the curtain to the bay, she had a bottle of water and looked around the empty area with a strange look on her face, “Harold… who are you talking to?”

Harold’s eyes grew wide and he stammered, “I… uh… What?”

Grace came over to sit in the chair… John smirked at Harold and vanished just as Grace sat down. “You sounded like you were talking to someone when I came in?”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He smiled and took the water from her casually.

“Okay…” Grace replied. She was skeptical. In all the research that she had done over the past two weeks, she had found that brain tumors, especially ones that were pressed up against the Occipital lobe, like Harold’s, could cause hallucinations… This would explain so much about how Harold was acting before he even knew what was wrong…

She was brought out of her thoughts by Harold grabbing her hand, “What do you say we go and get that dog?”

“Oh sweetheart, let’s talk about it a little later.” Grace replied, at this point a dog was the last thing on her mind.

“Let’s just go by the animal shelter on the way home and if that cute little guy that had you so excited is still there we’ll get him. What do you say?” Harold wanted Grace to have a distraction at home now.

He knew he was getting worse and the thought of her being with him constantly with no relief for herself broke his heart to think about. At least with a new little life in the house for them both to dote on and love together, it would give them something different to focus on… and Grace would have something to comfort her after he was gone.

Grace squeezed his hand and smiled, “Are you sure?” She asked doubtfully. Grace knew what Harold was trying to do and she appreciated the sentiment but she wasn’t sure that having a dog together was a good idea now or not.

Grace feared that instead of comfort, an animal they both had loved and taken care of together might be a painful reminder of Harold after he’s gone. She just wasn’t sure.

“Come on…” He grinned and encouraged her sweetly.

Before Grace could reply a nurse came into the room to explain to them what to do if Harold had another seizure at home.

Common sense instructions on what to do like staying with him until the seizure is over, make sure he’s breathing, lay him on his side, remove nearby objects that could cause harm, make sure there’s nothing in his mouth, and protect his head from injury. Also, if it goes on for more than five minutes, 911 should be called.

They sat together holding hands and listened obediently when John appeared again, standing in the corner and listening as well.

Harold had tuned the nurse out as soon as he saw John and he smiled at him. John winked back at him and grinned his own mischievous grin.

He was coming to terms with the reality that his death was imminent but the absolute worst part was knowing when the time came to put an end to his life… it would devastate Grace.

Grace noticed that Harold seemed to be off somewhere else in his mind when he looked toward the wall and smiled. She took a deep breath and listened all the more intently to the nurse, knowing that Harold hadn’t heard a word.

The nurse got the paperwork together and they thanked her and left and got into the car. Grace started the engine and paused to look at Harold in the passenger seat.

“Are you still sure about the dog, sweetheart?” She asked him hesitantly.

He turned toward her and replied, “What dog?”

Grace thought he was joking until she saw that the expression on his face was absolutely serious. She swallowed uneasily, “We said we were going to go get that little dog from the shelter, remember?”

“Oh, yes that’s right…” He replied awkwardly. “I… I’m sorry…” He cleared his throat. The realization of his condition worsening suddenly hit him hard as he tried to remember any conversation about a dog.  
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Grace smiled nervously as she maneuvered the car onto the road. She knew he was having trouble recalling the talk they’d had just a short time ago and her heart clenched painfully in her chest.

“Do you still want to?”

Harold looked at Grace, smiling through the tears he had in his eyes, “Of course.”

#

Harold lay in bed snuggled up with their new dog, Chumley. They’d had the little guy a little over two weeks now and the joy he’d brought into their home was wonderful.

Harold’s anti-seizure medications had been making him feel extremely fatigued and drowsy. Grace had told him to go lay down, relax a little bit before they took Chumley for a walk later in the afternoon.

“Grace, I’m fine.” He had said, barely able to keep his eyes open. She had steered him into the bedroom shortly after she noticed him dozing off sitting at the kitchen table.

She picked the little dog and set him down next to Harold. “You can be fine here in the bedroom,” she teased and got him settled into the pillows. She leaned down and kissed him languidly, “Rest my love, I’ll be in shortly.”

Harold held her wrist as she pulled away smiling at him. The love he felt for her in his heart welled up and he felt a tear come to his eye at the beauty of her as he watched her go.

John appeared next to him in the chair by the bed, “You should sleep, Harold.”

“I’m not tired.” He answered contemplatively as he gently stroked the little dog on his lap.

“Is that why you can’t keep your eyes open?”

Harold rolled over, turning his back to John, still petting the little being laying with him while remaining silent.

“Still stubborn as ever,” John laughed for an instant then, “How are you feeling?” He asked seriously and moved around the bed to better see his partner.

“You know damn well John. You see what’s happening to me. I’m losing my mind. I can’t remember where I put my glasses down half the time. I’m having seizures at least once a week it seems, hell maybe more! I used to be able to hack my way through any firewall out there and now I can’t even look at a computer without getting a headache… so in other words…” Harold smiled spitefully, “I’m doing great.”

John frowned, “I’m sorry, Finch…”

“No need to be sorry…” Harold murmured, his eyes sliding shut. “It’ll all be over soon… I’m going to end it… I can’t take much more of this.”

Grace dropped the glass of juice she was bringing into the room, glass shattering all over the floor. “What did you just say…?”


	7. Chapter 7

Harold sat up suddenly and his eyes grew wide. He didn’t know what to say, his mouth opened to speak but no words came out.

John moved over behind Grace, “Uh oh Harold… she doesn’t look happy.”

Grace was astonished and outraged. She walked over and picked Chumley up gently and set him on the floor then sat next to Harold.

“You’ve been planning on ending your life the whole time, haven’t you?” She raised her voice, “How could you be so selfish? So…” Tears ran down her cheeks and she closed her eyes trying to understand.

“Grace… I just thought… I thought that you would rather not have to watch me disappear right in front of you…” Harold sat up, moving closer to her. “I don’t want you to have to see me like that Grace… I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

Harold placed his hand on her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Please understand…”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, “Are you hearing yourself, Harold?” She replied, “How could you not have thought about talking to me about it… not thought about how I might feel?”

“She’s got you there Harold,” John interjected.

Harold ignored John and answered her as his voice cracked, “I’ve thought about this enough for the both of us Grace… please, I’m going to do this for us! You don’t deserve to have to… to have to…” Harold’s speech slurred suddenly and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as his body started to convulse and he fell back against the bed.

“Oh my God, Harold!” Grace quickly rolled him onto his side and could do nothing but watch in despair as Harold’s body shook and trembled. She looked at the time, terrified as each second ticked by until finally his movements abated and he immediately fell into a deep exhausted sleep.

Grace stood and watched over him for some time before she pulled the comforter across him and sat in the chair by the bed wept.

That had been the second seizure in as many days and she now knew that his condition had taken a turn for the worse.

Chumley came over to her and she picked the tiny dog up and held him to her and stroked his soft hair while she cried.

Grace knew that Harold had only agreed to get the animal because he wanted her to have something that would help to comfort her in his absence and as she sat there she couldn’t help but to feel that the he was doing just that now.

As she sat there and watched him she thought about what Harold wanted to do. Although she despised the idea of him killing himself… she found that she couldn’t help but understand.

Harold’s headaches had begun to worsen and their frequency was increasing. His patience was wearing thin and his temper was becoming an issue as he fought internally with himself.

He was becoming someone different and Grace knew how much he had started to agonize over these distressing new developments.

Grace really had to consider everything now. She knew that Harold was a proud man. He was the most intellectual and educated person she had ever known in her life. She also knew that the last thing in the world he wanted to have happen, was to lose the vast intelligence he had acquired through the years.

She also knew that it would kill his soul to become someone that needed constant care and attention.

He would at some point soon have to have someone to see to his most basic of human needs. He didn’t want to live that way and she couldn’t blame him.

John watched her from the end of the bed then moved to sit himself down next to Harold and laid a hand on his shoulder. He knew what he had to do. Harold had made him promise that when the time came he would tell him so that he could take the steps himself. It was almost time. He smiled down at his partner sadly. “I’m so sorry Finch…”

Grace noticed Harold stir about thirty minutes after he had fallen asleep. She couldn’t imagine how exhausted he must be.

“Harold?” She asked gently, pushing the hair back from his forehead.

“John?” Harold murmured, his eyes were still closed and John stayed to watch over him with Grace.

She continued to run her hand over him... over his face and hair; she could never get enough of touching him… especially now knowing that soon he wouldn’t be there for her to caress.

She knew he must have been dreaming when he continued to talk to one of his friends from the past. So she let him be and listened to him mutter to this John, saying something about numbers and a machine until he awoke on his own.

He opened his eyes to her lying next to him. Her hand had stilled and she propped herself up on one elbow to catch his gaze warmly.

“Is John here?” He asked her drowsily. Reaching his hands up to rub at his weary eyes.

“No sweetheart, you were just dreaming.” She caressed his cheek and witnessed in his expression the moment reality dawned and took hold of him.

She saw the tears well in his eyes and she pulled him to her and held him close while trying to keep herself together.

“Grace I’m losing myself.” He sat up and held her against him. “I need to stop before it’s too late.” Then John appeared again at the foot of the bed and looked at him gloomily.

“John, please, make it stop.”

He watched John shake his head sadly, “I’m sorry Harold I can’t… it’s not up to me.”

Harold wept and Grace pulled him to her harder and felt every one of the tremulous sobs running through him.

Grace listened to his plea and felt dread fall upon her once more. John had unmistakably followed Harold from his dreams into a waking vision as he kept begging John to stop what was happening to him.

“Please John make it now… I’m ready, please.”

Grace pulled away to look into his face. “Harold it’s me, I’m here for you my love.” she sobbed.

“John said he would tell me…” He looked past her and Grace was feeling completely out of her element as Harold continued to plead to this John person and she couldn’t seem to break him from his delirium.

“John, you said you would tell me… please tell me it’s time.” He wept again and again. “Please tell me…”

Harold was clearly seeing and talking to someone else in the room and Grace felt despair wash over her as she held him tighter and could only imagine what he was going through.

John was quiet until Harold calmed down a little before telling him, “No Finch it’s not time yet, you still have to help Grace accept your decision.” John took a deep breath to reign in his own emotions at seeing the most benevolent and devoted soul he had ever known fall apart before his eyes.

“I can’t go on John… please,” he begged. “I can’t do it...”

“Harold look at what you’re doing to the woman you love. She can’t see me, your scaring her.”

Harold pulled away from Grace and finally realized when he saw the look of distress clearly etched on her face what he was doing to her.

Harold closed his eyes for a long moment and collected himself. When he opened them again, John was gone and Grace looked at him in shock at what she had just witnessed.

“I’m so sorry Grace.” Harold at that moment finally understood that he had to tell her about John. It wasn’t going to be easy but at some point it was bound to have happened.

Now he had no other choice but to tell the woman he loves and adores about the most important man he’d ever come to know.

The man that had died so that he could live on.

The irony that he was now dying anyway was brutal and disheartening to think about but he took a deep breath and began clumsily...

“He was my partner… John was my partner and he died to save me but he’s still here.” Harold watched Grace’s expression turn to one of confusion and pity.

“I’m going crazy, Grace.” He knew it was the wrong way to start out of the gate already but had to continue now like it or not,  
“John is dead but he’s been with me almost the entire time I’ve been back with you. He’s the reason I’m alive and able to be with you… he died for me.” Harold inwardly cringed at how insane his assertion was and waited anxiously, nearly in tears again, for Grace’s response.

Grace pulled him into an embrace and rubbed soothing circles over his back while they both wept together again.

Harold wasn’t making any sense to her but she knew it made perfect sense to him. If this John was able to comfort Harold while she wasn’t able to, she wouldn’t try to convince him otherwise. She decided that she wouldn’t encourage him to talk to a dead man but she would reconcile herself to accept it if it would mean giving her more time with her true love. She would accept from him anything and everything to come.

“I understand sweetheart and it’s okay.” Grace held him close and thought hard to remember exactly what he was saying to John when she came in the room.

Then she remembered the words he used. Harold told John that it would all be over soon, that he was going to end it because he couldn’t take much more. She suddenly felt nauseous at the ramifications of the horrific thought.

From now on Grace would have to convince Harold to tell her everything that he and John talked about. She wouldn’t accept a dead man giving her fiancé permission to do himself in. She had to tread lightly with how to handle the situation.

“Do you want to tell me about him, my love?” She asked hesitantly while still holding him close and stroking over his back.

She felt Harold take a deep shuddering breath, “I don’t think I can right now, Grace…”

She wouldn’t push him; not with both of their heightened emotions being so fragile but she would try her damndest to get him to open up about this John very soon. She just had to… for both their sakes.

Harold felt completely spent after everything that had happened. He pulled away and looked into Grace’s beautiful green eyes, “Can I sleep some more, sweetheart?”

“Of course, dearest. I’ll get a meal put together later. You just get some rest.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” He asked her hesitantly.

“I’m sure my love. Here… let’s get you under the covers. Take off your waistcoat and we’ll get you settled in for a real nap this time,” she teased she dried her tears.

  
Harold did what she suggested and laid back against his pillows and closed his eyes as she covered him up snuggly.

She kissed his forehead and turned to leave the room when she heard him quietly murmur, “Goodnight John.”

#

The morning sun was shining in through the windows and the birds were chirping happily. Harold cracked open his eyes half-lidded and rolled over.

Grace was lying beside him, sleeping peacefully. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he tried to get up.

Tried was the operative word. He was becoming weaker by the day. He managed to force himself out of bed carefully so as not to wake Grace and moved out toward the kitchen to start a pot of coffee for them.

It didn’t seem like a big deal… but small routine tasks like this were growing to be almost impossible for him. Every day now when he woke up, the headaches were becoming more painful and his vision was worsening on top it.

“Morning, Harold,” John greeted him as he walked into the room. “How’d you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well…” Harold managed to get himself over to the coffee pot on the counter.

Chumley padded over softly to Harold and put his paws on his leg and wagged his tail, asking for his own breakfast. “Okay… hold on…” Harold looked down at him and smiled. He had grown very fond of the fluffy little dog.

He still missed Bear terribly and his heart ached but he knew that it was better for both he and the dog to stay apart. It was one of the hardest things he had to do when he left New York, to leave Bear behind, but he was sure that Shaw would keep him safe and happy.

He didn’t think he would be able to stand to see the beloved animal again only to have to leave him once more.

Harold put the grounds into the pot and closed the lid. He went to flip the switch to turn it on when John cleared his throat and shifted in the chair, “You forgot to add the water, Harold…”

Harold sighed, rubbing his eyes, and just then realizing he forgot his glasses in the bedroom. “Damnit...” He exclaimed. He wondered why it was so blurry in the room.

“It’s all right…” John replied gently with a smile.

“No… it’s not…” Harold balled his hands into fists where they sat on the counter.

John got up and moved closer to him, setting his hands onto his shoulders, “You need to relax… and when Grace tries to help, let her. She loves you, Harold. And it’s okay to need and accept help.”

Harold relaxed his hands and shoulders and leaned into John’s warm touch. Even knowing John wasn’t really there. “I know…”

Then John disappeared and Grace came out of nowhere, slipping her hands around Harold’s waist and pressing kisses to his back, “Morning, sweetheart.” He turned to her and she placed his glasses over his ears and onto the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you, my love,” he smiled. “Good morning.”

She looked at the coffee pot with a raised brow. “That’s usually my job.” She teased.

The side of Harold’s mouth quirked up, “I thought I’d try to do something… helpful.”

“Fine by me,” Grace chuckled. “Did you give Chumley his breakfast?” She asked, looking at the dog who was pawing at the cupboard.

“Oh dear, no I was going to but Joh… I got distracted.” He poured water into the carafe and set it back into the pot and flipped the switch to get it started.

Grace frowned, hearing Harold slip up and admit he was talking to John again. She turned around to find him searching on the top of the refrigerator. “Grace, did you move Chumley’s food?”

“Harold…” She smiled, “It’s in the cupboard… remember?”

“Oh… yes, that’s right…” Harold whispered, his head falling slightly in embarrassment.

Grace moved over to him and put her hands on either side of his face, “Hey…” She smiled, “Stop it. You’re the sweetest, strongest, smartest, most sincere, and loving man I’ve ever known. And that’s all that matters. And I forget things all the time myself.” She pressed their lips together for a moment. “I love you, and I always will. No matter what.”

“I love you, too,” He replied despondently.

Suddenly Harold’s vision began to distort and he felt a piercing pain behind his left eye so intense it took his breath away.

He grabbed onto the kitchen counter to steady himself against the throbbing onslaught while he fought to stay on his feet.

“Harold, what’s happening?” Grace had not seen this type of attack from him before and it frightened her to death to see Harold struggling to breathe and remain standing.

He had been keeping this from her. This was now the fourth such occurrence of its kind and he wanted to spare her from the knowledge of yet another affliction that had begun to assail him. He had hoped they would stop before she would ever have to know of them.

The attacks were so bad at times he wanted to die but thankfully they only lasted for two or three minutes before they subsided and left him feeling fatigued and drained of all energy.

“Grace…” He couldn’t get any more words out and his legs were growing weaker by the second. The assault was excruciating and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, desperate for it to stop.

She had enough sense to pull a chair over for him to sit down on before he collapsed and made just it in time. He indicated his thanks to her and took her hand in his as he slowly recovered.

John watched on sadly from the doorway.


	8. Chapter 8

“I’m… fine now,” He panted. “It’s almost… through.” He attempted a smile to comfort her but couldn’t quite manage it.

He tried hard to convince her that it was nothing, that she shouldn’t fret about it too much... but she wasn’t having any of that.

She looked at him with a mixture of concern and a hint of anger. “How long has this been going on Harold?” She studied him carefully while he caught his breath. She looked at him intently and then she noticed that his left eye was dilated much more than his right.

She squeezed his hand gently, “How long?” She asked again softly.

“Tell her, Finch,” John interjected, “You should be telling her everything,” He pressed.

“She shouldn’t have to know,” Harold replied sternly and then realized that he had answered John’s remark, not Grace's question. 

“I mean… you shouldn’t have to know… you shouldn’t have to concern yourself over every little thing Grace.” He answered her as steadily as he could, trying to cover for his slip-up and it seemed to work.

“Harold this isn’t fair… and I wouldn’t consider what just happened to you as a little thing. What you’re doing by keeping me in the dark about what’s going on with you isn’t acceptable and I want it to stop.” She tried to be as stern with him as she could be but it was impossible to stay angry with him. She could only imagine what he was having to endure and as hard as the truth was to hear… she needed to know everything. Not just for him... but for her. She’d never be able to forgive herself if something preventable happened to him because she wasn’t aware of it.

“Yes, you’re right and I’m sorry my love.” He’d gotten his breathing under control but now he was tremendously weak and had a splitting headache. The weariness that was ever present was getting harder to deal with. The smallest efforts were becoming more difficult on a daily basis.

“I’m going to need to go back and lay down, sweetheart.” He saw John standing in the corner watching them quietly, looking bereft.

Harold wanted to beg him again to tell him that it was time but he could tell by looking at him that John wouldn’t budge on the matter, not yet anyway and Grace was there too so he couldn’t ask him verbally. He didn’t want to frighten her any more than he was already doing.

“Alright, let me help you. Lean on me if you need to.” Grace helped him stand up slowly, using the counter for leverage and he put his arm around her shoulder’s trying hard not to put too much of his weight on her small frame.

They started to make their way back to the bedroom and Harold glared at John as they went through the doorway of the kitchen. The anger he was feeling was also becoming a problem. He’d never experienced his emotions being so out of control before and it was just one more thing that bothered him a great deal.

“Be careful now and take your time.” Grace encouraged him and put her arm snugly him around his waist.

Her mind was filled with what if’s now. What if she’s gone to the store and he has another attack of some kind and dies while she’s buying groceries? What if she’s in the shower and he falls down and hurts himself in another part of the house and she’s not there to help him in time? What if she’s doing the laundry and he has another seizure and this time it goes on long enough to finally kill him.

But then she realizes that if she dwells on the ‘what ifs’ too much it will only make a horrible situation that much worse in her own mind and then she wouldn’t be any help to him at all. She’d be more of an emotional wreck than she already was. She had to keep herself together for both their sakes

They made their way to the bed and Grace pulled back the covers and helped Harold back in. She tucked him in and kissed him tenderly.

“I’m so sorry Grace.” Harold looked up at her with tears in his eyes and she nearly lost it and had to compose herself.

“It’s alright sweetheart but will you promise me that you’ll tell me if anything and I mean anything happens to you? Please, my love, promise me.”

“Yes… I will,” He replied drowsily.

She looked down at her exhausted love, “Can I get you anything at all?”

“No, it’s alright… thank you.” His eyes fell closed and he was mercifully pulled into sleep. His only respite from pain now was on the rare occasion that the exhaustion was enough to drag him under for a few hours at a time… if he was lucky.

Grace closed the shutters and blocked out all the light that she could before she left him alone to rest. She turned to leave the room but paused and went back over to kiss his sleeping form once more before she left.

#

Nothing was touching Harold’s pain in times like these; not even the most potent pain medications available could break through the wall of agony that often surrounded him now.

He was rapidly losing the will to live. The pain was something that he could deal with in small doses and he had promised to work through it to the best of his ability for the time being… but it was becoming more difficult by the day. And with the pain came an aversion to food.

Logically he understood that food was life but he had no more want or desire for either anymore. It was becoming harder to get anything down with no appetite and when he did manage the feat... it didn’t want to stay down. It only made him feel sick to his stomach until it came back up. He was tired in every respect and dwelled on everything.

He decided that it would all come down to one of two things; he would fight to live until either the pain became constant and unendurable or until he lost the mental capacity to take care of himself… and he was still relying on John to tell him when it was time.

For Harold, if he had the ability to choose between dying from one or the other, the choice was clear. He would much rather have to deal with the pain as excruciating as it was than with losing his mind.

He would rather be dead than to lose the mental fortitude to take care of himself. He didn’t want to live out his days only to have to be cared for by someone else for the rest of his life. Being helpless and having to be bathed and fed and catheterized and not understanding who or how or why but to just exist physically in a shell of the man he had been while someone else did everything for him was a horrifying thought.

And the one thing Harold absolutely, unequivocally did not want to have happen, was for Grace to have to be the one saddled with that responsibility… or to even see him that way. It was painful for him to think about. He could think of no worse fate for either of them and he constantly worried that his mental state was leaving him faster than his physical state. He feared that one day all of a sudden he would close his eyes and when next he opened them he would be mentally gone, that he wouldn’t know anyone or anything.

Logically he understood that the illness didn’t work that way but he still feared that it could be an instantaneous thing and that it would happen before he was able to put into place his own measures to take himself out… before the deed could be put into action by his own hand. He had planned to speak to Grace about it at breakfast that morning but plainly it was not meant to be.

#

Grace came back into the room and sat next to him and ran her hand over his face and hair while he slept. She agonized over everything that had happened and the new horrors that were now present and she needed to touch him to relieve some of the pressure she was under. The love they held for each other was conveyed through the simple touches they shared and it helped to feel the warmth of him under her hands.

John sat at the foot of the bed and smiled at the gentle show of affection and he knew exactly why his partner had fallen in love with such a woman… who wouldn’t?

Harold was sleeping more now than he ever had in all the time she knew him and it broke her heart knowing that it wasn’t by choice. The medication regimen was taking a toll on his stamina and it pained her to know that he hated it and was only doing it for her.

As she watched over him she wept quietly watching his expressions change with varying degrees of pain as he slept. She didn’t know if he was experiencing physical pain or if he were having a bad dream and she wrestled with the decision of whether to wake him or not.

In the end, she decided to let him sleep and keep an eye on him, so she gently got up from the bed and quietly moved to the armchair and picked Chumley up from the floor and held him to her.

He was such a sweet little thing and as she sat there and loved on him she started to weep again. Harold got so much joy from him and in her mind, she pictured the times Harold would be playing with him and talking to him while she prepared their meals throughout the day. This tiny being would be her link to Harold when she finally lost him and she knew that their decision to adopt him had been the right one.

#

“Harold, are you sure you’re up for this?” Grace asked, attaching the leash to Chumley’s collar.

“Yes…” Harold replied, his hands shaking as he put his coat on, “I want to do this, Grace.”

“Okay. But if you start to feel tired or sick or anything…” She started.

“Grace, it’s going to be fine. Today’s a good day.” He smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek.

Harold was right. Today was considered one of the good days. He was up and out of bed and the constant headaches he was having hadn’t gotten too bad yet. He wasn’t dizzy and he seemed to be more alert.

But the bad days outnumbered the good ones by a mile. Days where he couldn’t even get out of bed because his head was throbbing so badly. Or the days when he couldn’t sit up without being sick as a result of the dizziness he felt with the effort.                         

“Harold, your shoes…” John pointed down to the leather custom made dress shoes, the laces untied. No matter what happened, Harold would never dress in anything but the finest bespoke attire. Grace would see to that herself. One of the things that she loved so much about him was his fussy attention to detail and she would never let him out dressed in anything less than his own incomparable attire.

Harold huffed, kneeling down gingerly to tie the fabric laces. The ties seemed to slip right through the fingers of his trembling hands.

Grace knelt down to help him but he didn’t move his hands, he continued to try to tie them himself.

She set her hands on top of his, squeezing them reassuringly, “Do you want a little help?” She asked him gently.

“No, please… just let me do this…” He replied angrily, his voice threatening to break.

Grace lifted her hands but still stayed next to him. Watching him carefully. Ready to assist him if he needed her to.

“Come on, Finch. Just relax and concentrate. Just like hacking into a firewall.” John was there again. Standing over him.

Harold smirked, concentrating intently and taking hold of the laces firmly. He quickly tied them before they could slip through his fingers again.

Once he was finished, he let out a sigh and stood up.

“There you go,” John smiled warmly.

Grace smiled at him pleased, “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” He put his arm around Grace’s waist, holding on to her as his anchor.

Chumley led the way, taking them down the street and through the park by their apartment. Halfway through their journey, Grace noticed that Harold had started to slow down a bit.

“Let’s stop here, sweetheart.” She motioned to the fountain at the park, “The sunset is gorgeous.”

Sitting down and picking up Chumley to put on his lap, Grace scooted closer to him. She sighed and relaxed, laying her head on Harold’s shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Grace sighed.

“Breathtaking…” Harold replied, feeling a tear coming to his eye.

Grace took his hand and held it in hers, both of them gazing out over the park, watching the sunset. “I love you,” Grace whispered, her eyes watery as well.

“And I love you,” Harold smiled, and turned to press his lips to hers. This was the first time that he had genuinely been able to smile in a long time and he pulled Grace closer to him.

“The sunset is almost as beautiful as you are my love.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and the three of them sat quietly and enjoyed the end of a stunning evening.


	9. Chapter 9

Today was a bad day. 

A typical day in the past Grace would wake to find Harold already up and wide awake for hours, puttering around the house or looking into the latest computer and technological innovations. 

He’d never really ever slept more than five or six hours a night but Grace had woken up today to Harold slipping back into bed quietly. He had managed to keep quiet enough while he got sick in the bathroom so as not to wake her and needed to lie back down. 

An average day now meant she would wake up to find him either gone to the kitchen to take his morning regimen of medications and grabbing an icepack for his head or she would wake up to him slipping back into bed, like today, after he had taken a hot, steaming shower to try and ease some of the aches and pains in the rest of his body. 

Making love was now a thing of the past. Harold was rarely able to achieve an erection and it troubled him and whittled away at his confidence and self-esteem. He had always taken great pride in his ability to satisfy Grace on every level sexually… but now he didn’t have the strength or stamina to satisfy her as he had always done before. 

The most he could hope to do for her for anymore was to touch and bring her to orgasm by hand or on rare occasions orally but even that much was extremely taxing for him.

Grace hadn’t given up trying to bring him pleasure but more often than not he would stop her from trying to bring him off with her hand or her mouth as it rarely did any good and he didn’t want her to waste her time. He was never able to maintain an erection or to ejaculate and it did nothing other than bring him shame and embarrassment.

Grace had tried to explain to him that she didn’t need to have an orgasm to feel good. She didn’t need him inside her to make her desire him any more than she always had. 

Merely being allowed to touch him and to taste him was enough for her but he couldn’t let himself believe her. He felt like half a man now that he couldn’t penetrate and satisfy her in that way... no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise.

Grace was brought out of her thoughts after he’d settled back into bed and wrapped her arms around him, he was shaking. The trembling had started to get worse about a week ago. His weakening system from weight loss and fatigue was continually draining the heat from his body and he could never seem to stay warm enough.

“Do you need anything my love?” She whispered, knowing that he had a severe migraine just by his appearance. Her heart ached for him.

By now she had mastered the fine art of detailing every aspect of his emotions and his pain level by the expression on his face. “Pills…” He choked out, not able to keep the intense pain that had increasingly rooted itself from his voice. 

“I’ll be right back…” She kissed his forehead and got up from the bed gently and went out to the kitchen to get him everything he would need. 

A glass of water and his pills, she wasn’t exactly sure which ones he needed at the moment so she brought them all, and a cool cloth for him to put over his forehead and eyes. She also grabbed a protein bar, just in case she was able to coax him into eating a small amount of food.

He never wanted the peanut butter bar, he was never hungry, especially when he felt like he did now but Grace always encouraged him to eat something just to have in his stomach along with the medication. 

John appeared sitting on the side of the bed, running his hand through Harold’s hair gently after Grace left. “Harold, have you thought anymore about contacting Shaw or Fusco?” He asked, keeping his voice quiet for his suffering partner. 

“No.” Harold replied flatly. 

“They should know…” John frowned, his brows creasing.

“Let it go, John…” Harold murmured, his arm covered his eyes but he still had them clenched tightly against the small amount of light that came in through the blinds. “Unless you’re here to tell me it’s time to go I suggest you leave.” He added irritably.

“Okay… but just think about this… if it were the other way around… wouldn’t you want to be able to say goodbye?” John’s frown deepened at the word ‘goodbye’ and he disappeared. 

The subject had only been brought up by John once before and though Harold had thought about his former team members often he always believed that it would be better for everyone if he just kept them locked away in his heart. 

He wasn’t sure either one of them even knew he was still alive; he didn’t think they did, so why should he tell them now only for them to have to see that he actually died in pain and misery with certainty. It just didn’t make any sense to do that to them. 

He couldn’t think about it anymore.

Concentrating at any given moment was becoming harder to accomplish now… especially with the severity of the pain increasing and becoming more frequent.

Grace entered the room a short while later, “Alright… here you go sweetheart, let me help you sit up…” She’d brought all of his medications in on a tray to be sure she brought the correct ones and set everything down on the bedside table. 

Seeing all of the pill bottles sitting together at one time on the tray struck Harold hard and he gaped at them in shock.

He took a shuddering breath as he realized just how many medications he was now taking. He hadn’t seen them all in one place before and the comprehension that took hold of his mind at the sheer volume and variety of different drugs he was taking over the course of a day shocked him and he immediately fell into a deep depression.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Harold laid back against the bed without another word and he put his arms over his eyes and face and sobbed quietly.

“Please Harold, what’s wrong…? Tell me sweetheart.” Grace didn’t understand what could have happened and was frightened and confused as she stood and watched him weep.

John sat next to him on the bed and put his hand on Harold’s shoulder sympathetically, trying to offer him a little comfort and understanding.

“Please Grace… just go.” Harold never wanted this to happen. He never wanted to have to rely on having to take drugs to survive. 

He thought he was fine with it at first, he was doing it for Grace but now the realization that he was ingesting close to forty pills each and every day just to prolong living, if that’s what you could call it, was too much to accept right now. And the fact that it wasn’t even enough to allow him to have a day to enjoy with Grace free of pain for more than two or three hours at a time, once or twice a week, at best was devastating.

“Harold please…” She sat next to him and gently tried to pull his arms away from his face while fighting to keep herself under control. It was agonizing to witness him fall apart and not be able to help.

“Damn it, John!” He exclaimed angrily.

Grace lowered herself to the bed and laid beside him and put her head on his shoulder and an arm over his waist and cried with him.

A few moments later she felt Harold shift and put his arm down and pulled her closely to him.

They both finally quieted and Harold brought up the subject that they had both been putting off.

“Grace my love,” He began unsteadily and felt her take a deep breath. “Grace… we have to talk about it while I’m still able to.” The pain in his head was excruciating but he had to push through it now regardless. 

They had to have the talk now. Harold was instantly reminded and made the decision when he’d seen the tray of pills that he would no longer take the medication that was meant to prevent seizures and in essence keeping him alive. 

From this day forward he would only take what he needed to for pain and hope that it was enough to at least give him a little more time with Grace and until it was the right time to end his life.

Harold opened his eyes, his head was killing him and his periphery vision he could see John sitting in the chair next to the bed observing them quietly.

“Sweetheart… I can’t keep going on like this.” Grace’s heart constricted in her chest at the conveyance of his words.

“Harold… I.” She couldn’t talk through the lump in her throat.

Harold held her tightly, her head laying on his chest and he sympathized with her.

“Shhh… I know Grace… I know that it’s hard but I’m losing more and more of myself every day it seems and what we have now is nothing to what you deserve.” He felt her readying herself for an argument so he quickly continued.

“Please my love… hear me out.” The pain in his head was a tremendous hurdle to overcome but he didn’t know when he would lose his mind for good. He had to get this important discussion resolved while he was still in his right mind. He took a pained breath and went on.

“You know how I feel my darling, you know that I can’t do this to you, to us. I’m being reduced to almost nothing and I can’t stand it anymore.” He felt sobs racking her petite frame under his hands as he stroked her back and continued.

He looked over toward his partner and John nodded his approval for Harold to go on, smiling sadly at him. “It’s almost time Harold.”

This time, Harold believed John. He could tell it was almost over for him and he tried to speak to Grace as calmly as he could. He had to try and help her through his reasoning, he had to make her see that he was going to do the right thing for the both of them.

“I know that you understand Grace, you know me and you know that it’s becoming impossible for me to get through a day that we can spend together without something terrible happening and I can’t do it anymore my love… you know I can’t live like this much longer.”

Grace took a shuddering breath, “What are you thinking about Harold?” She asked sadly. “What do you have in mind?” She kept her face turned toward his chest. She couldn’t look at him right now. The despair of what he was suggesting was too much but she had been expecting him to broach the subject at any time.

“Harold?” She felt his body suddenly go rigid under her and sat up to find that he had begun to have another seizure.

John looked away forlornly as Grace desperately tried to keep herself from losing control of her emotions. She turned Harold over onto his side and wept as his body went into convulsions.


	10. Chapter 10

Grace watched over him until the tremors finally subsided and his tormented body stilled. He laid there with his eyes closed and his chest heaving. He was wrecked and wanted nothing more than to sleep but his body had other ideas.

 

Grace thought that he was asleep, but the labored breathing and expression of pain etched on his face told her otherwise.

“Grace…” He murmured weakly.

“Harold?” She put her hand on his cheek gently, “Open your eyes for me sweetie.”

Harold groaned and threw his hand up to cover his mouth and slurred, “Bathroom…”

Grace helped him up and put her arm around him to lend support and led him into the master bath. She helped him to the commode and lifted the lid then helped him kneel onto his knees, “Please leave…” He retched and panted breathlessly. “Please Grace…”

She knew that Harold didn’t want her to see him like this. Knew that his pride was still fully intact and he hated to have to be cared for like this. To be watched like this.

She frowned, “I’ll be right outside…” She put her hand on his back before she left, offering a small comfort for the nightmare they were both living through.

She left the room and shut the door behind her, falling back against it with an audible thud and she let out a choked sob as she listened to him getting violently ill.

She wanted to stay strong. Stay strong for him. But it was getting much harder. She hated to see him like this and knew he felt the same. She could hardly stand it.

A few seconds later she heard the toilet flush and Harold called for her to come back in. 

She opened the door slowly to see him leaning against the bathtub, breathing hard with his right knee brought up to his chest.  
She at looked at him sympathetically, “Are you okay?”

“Yes… I’m sorry for that.” He wiped his face with a towel and looked up at Grace and the side of his mouth quirked up in an unconvincing attempt at a smile, “Would you mind helping me up?”

“Of course, sweetheart and please don’t apologize.” Grace moved over and put her arm underneath his, carefully helping him to his feet. Once he was standing upright, he swayed a little bit. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” He answered, gazing into Grace’s eyes with love and tenderness behind the ever-present pain in his own. He always felt a modicum of relief right after he got sick, as if in expelling the contents of his stomach he had removed a small amount of the poison that was running through his veins.

If only those few moments of respite would remain longer than mere minutes he might feel more like fighting to live.

She helped him back to the bed gradually, lying him down and covering him up with the comforter, “How are you, sweetheart, really?” She asked, wanting the whole truth.

“I’m okay, Grace. My head hurts a bit… but it’s not too abysmal yet.” He again tried to lighten the situation and he managed a small smirk.

She sat down next to him on the bed, running her hand through his soft hair, “Do you want to sleep some more?” She set the cool cloth that she had brought in earlier over his forehead and kissed his cheek.

“No… not yet.” He murmured, “Grace… what I said earlier…we need to talk about it.”

Grace held her hand up to stop him, “Harold, it’s okay. I can’t even imagine the hell you’re going through right now… let’s talk about it after you’ve rested. I know how tired you get after an episode. Please let’s just put it off a few hours until you feel better.”  
Harold wouldn’t tell her that it was now at the point that it wasn’t going to get better, the pain was almost constant, varying only slightly in its intensity. He had dropped fifteen pounds in the last two weeks as he was having difficulty keeping anything down.

There was never any warning when another episode of some kind would occur and he was rapidly forgetting things now as well… routine things that shouldn’t take any thought to remember.

He didn’t have the heart at the moment to tell her that he was very close to taking the steps necessary to put an end to his suffering and his life.

He felt a tear roll down his cheek and drip off his chin, “Grace… I just want you to know and always remember how much I love you… how much I adore you.” He smiled at her, “I always have.”

He wouldn’t put her through the pain of telling her of his plan to stop taking the caustic medications that made him sluggish and sick until later that night.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” She smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek again, “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?”

“I’m sure… not right at this moment” Harold smiled, “I would like my cuddle partner though…” He smiled.

“Oh, all right, I’ll go get Chumley then…” Grace teased, and winked at him. She moved around to her side of the bed, getting under the covers with the man she has loved since the first day he said hello to her holding an ice cream cone at the height of winter. She was smitten from the moment she laid eyes on him.

She pressed herself close to him, wrapping her arm around his waist. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, “Is this okay? Do you feel alright?”

“Always when I’m with you my love… no matter what’s happening… you make it much more bearable.”

They lay there together quietly, each in their own thoughts until sleep claimed them both embraced in each other’s arms.

John sat in the chair by the window and looked on in silence.

#

“Harold?” Grace called out into the living room where he was sitting in a chair holding Chumley in his lap, petting the tiny dog affectionately. They had only just awoken from their nap less than an hour ago and Harold wanted to sit in a different room for a change as most of the time he was now confined to the bed.

“Yes?” Harold hummed, chuckling a bit as the dog rolled around on his back for Harold to rub his belly.

Grace came from the kitchen and sat next to him on the arm of the chair and ran her hand over his soft hair tentatively… hesitant to bring the accursed subject up again. “Do you want to talk about what you started earlier now?”

As much as she hated the idea of giving voice to the horror of what Harold was afflicted with she also knew how paramount he considered the matter. As painful as it was for her she understood that it was just as difficult for him.

Harold slowed his attentions to the dog and looked up at her, he took a deep breath, “You’ve known for some time now that I’m not going to get better, Grace…”

“Yes…” She replied woefully; it never got easier to talk or think about the love of her life dying in such an unjust manner so soon after he came back to her.

“Well… these medications… they’re only making me feel extremely sick all the time and they’re not going to cure me.” He paused to gage her emotions and when she didn’t add anything he continued, “So, I just think it may be time to stop taking them… I don’t want to prolong the inevitable if it only means taking any quality time away from us.”

John sat near the window observing quietly. Harold looked over at him. He couldn’t help but to feel comforted seeing him and John rarely initiated conversation anymore but it didn’t matter. They had always enjoyed a comfortable silence together and it was no different now.

Grace closed her eyes and fought back to urge to shout at Harold. To tell him to stop being so damn stubborn.

But she couldn’t. She had no idea what it was like to slowly disappear, to forget at times who your loved ones where, who you were… to be in pain all the time and not be able to do anything about it and it only continue to get worse by the day. She had thought long and hard about how he perceived things and couldn’t blame him for his bleak outlook.

“Harold…” She took a breath, “I was angry at first… when you were talking about ending your life… I was furious to be honest. I just got you back and now you’re leaving me again.” She held back her tears, “I will in no way encourage your decision to end your own life… but if you don’t want to take the medication… then I’ll try and accept it.”

Harold closed his eyes in relief and the corner of his mouth quirked up, “I promise you… I will stay with you for as long as I can…” He kissed her, “As long as I’m in my right mind… and can take care of myself… I’ll be here with you.”

Grace choked out a sob and embraced him, “Alright my love, that’s all I can ask of you...”

Harold looked over Grace’s shoulder as he held her close to find a smile of tenderness on John’s face. He smiled back at his partner. The discussion was behind them now, at least that part was over.

#

Harold was sitting at the kitchen table, reading through the newspaper for the short amount of time that his brain would allow him to do so without adding to the massive headache he lived with now day in and day out or forgetting how to comprehend the words.

“Harold, your coffee…” John motioned to the cup that Harold had left on the counter, he had forgotten all about it. “There’s very few things worse than drinking cold coffee,” he chuckled.

“Oh, I can think of a few John,” Harold grinned and stood up to make his way over to the counter. Halfway there, he stopped, grabbing his head in his hands as a sharp pain shot through the left side of his brain. He made it to the counter and grabbed on, his knuckles going white from the grip.

“Do you need Grace?” John asked, suddenly right behind Harold.

“No…” Harold clenched his teeth, “It’ll pass…”

He rode it out painfully for a long time, much longer than he had ever remembered before, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed tight. He took a deep breath when it finally subsided a bit… opening his eyes and looking around him to a house that he didn’t recognize.

“Where am I?” He spoke aloud, “Wasn’t I just in the library? John… where are you?” Harold started to panic.

“Harold… You’re confused…” John appeared next to him and put his hands on his shoulders, “You’re in Italy… with Grace… remember?”

It took him a few seconds, but recognition finally sparked in those bright blue eyes. He picked up his cup of coffee and made his way back over to the table. He sat down, grabbing the paper again and opening it as if nothing had happened.

“Harold?” Grace entered the kitchen, “Oh, there you are.” She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Did you feed Chumley?”

“Yes, of course,” Harold answered, turning the pages of the newspaper.

Grace smiled at him and when she glanced at the dog’s bowl, her heart dropped. It was empty.

“Harold, what do you say we go sit out on the balcony? Enjoy the nice day. I’m going to get a cup of coffee and I’ll be out in a second to join you.” She pressed another kiss to his head.

“Okay, sweetheart.” He got up and headed outside.

Grace watched until he closed the sliding glass door and sat down out in one of the chairs and opened the paper again. She turned around to look at Chumley, who was sitting by his bowl.

“I’m sorry little one… Daddy’s just… not well …” She took his food out of the cupboard and poured some into the bowl. “There you go.” She ran her hand over the dog’s head then poured herself a cup of coffee.

She noticed that Harold’s cup had been left behind so she freshened it up before forcing a cheerful smile and joining him outside.

John stood at the wall and watched Grace’s expression of concern as she fed the little dog and then went outside to be with the man that they both love. He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. The time was now very near.


	11. Chapter 11

Harold was already in bed, where he now spent most of his time, waiting for Grace to come in at the end of the evening when John appeared lying next to him.

“So, you told her you’re not taking the medicine anymore?” John confirmed knowingly.

“Yes. I’m only taking the ones that help a little with the pain now,” Harold replied, not taking his eyes off the ceiling.

“Isn’t that kind of cheating?” John chuckled, rolling over onto his side, staring at him.

“I don’t care…” Harold started, “I can’t put her through all this much longer… She doesn’t deserve it, the sooner it’s over the better… for both of us.”

John was silent for a moment then began, “Have you even thought about whether she would rather have you here or not? No matter what’s wrong with you? No matter what condition you’re in? Even if you can’t remember where you set your glasses? You don’t think she’d be happy to just to have you here with her physically?” John sat up and looked at his friend, his brows raised.

Harold turned to look at John beside him with a glare that could burn a hole through steel. He didn’t say anything… just stayed silent. How could John even ask that absurd question? He turned back over and closed his eyes and waited for Grace, effectively ending the conversation between the two of them.

“Sweetheart, are you ready for bed?” Grace came from the bathroom, rubbing lotion into her hands.

Harold turned on his side to look at her, “Just waiting for you, my love.” He smiled and noticed absently that John was now gone.

#

Today had been a good day as far as mutual interaction between he and Grace. Harold was able to get out of bed and to move around a little without too much assistance. He was also able to carry on a conversation for more than a few minutes at a time before he lost the concentration to continue.

But the pain was always there… constant and unending and he tried to hide the severity from Grace as much as he could but it was proving to be impossible.

She could read it in the lines of his face as she helped him get dressed. They were going out to dinner. Well ‘going out’ was a loose term. It meant that Grace had set up the balcony to look like a very nice restaurant and had everything prepared and ready to go when they would make their way outside.

“Thank you, Grace.” Harold hummed as she finished fixing his tie. His suits had been altered twice already to accommodate his shrinking frame and needed another but he looked as dashing as ever in her eyes.

He needed help doing quite a bit more now, his left arm had started to give him trouble. It had weakened exponentially and he was now hardly able to lift it more than a few inches and wasn’t able to make a fist with much more strength than a toddler.

“You’re welcome,” She kissed him lovingly, “I’m going to go put my dress on. I’ll be right back; don’t start without me.”

The side of his mouth quirked up a bit, “Absolutely not.”

He watched her raptly as she left him, going back to their bedroom to get dressed. He would never tire of the vision of beauty and splendor the woman he fell in love with possessed.

Harold had sat down on the couch; Chumley hopped up on the space beside him, rolling around and begging for Harold to pet him.

“Oh, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Harold chuckled, rubbing the tiny dog’s soft, furry belly.

“So are you,” John appeared and smiled, sitting down next to Harold on the arm of the couch. “You look good, Harold.”

“Thank you,” Harold kept his attention on the dog.

“Have you thought about what I said?” John asked plainly, bringing up the previous night when he told Harold that Grace may want to have him around for as long as she can, no matter what his condition was. “Because you need to decide, Harold… it’s almost time.”

“Yes John, I’ve thought about it my entire life and my decision has never wavered.” Harold answered impatiently, “I realize that what’s wrong with me isn’t the same as my father’s illness but the end result is the same.” Harold focused straight ahead and in his mind went back to the past as he continued. “When my father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s… it didn’t really sink in fully until I had to remind him of who I was constantly… Then he lost the ability to think… to reason… to form a string of thought… to remember anything from his past. He couldn’t even remember how to tie his shoes, John. He sat there in a chair at the end… he couldn’t walk … he couldn’t speak… his mind had finally checked out. There was nothing left of him. He could do absolutely nothing for himself.”

Harold finally turned towards him, his attention focused solely on his partner now, “I would have rather he died a quick and painless death than to have to watch him suffer like that.”

“He wasn’t suffering Harold; there was no pain involved,” John replied sadly.

“You don’t think to lose every shred of who and what you were in life isn’t a form of suffering?” Harold grew angry. “How dare you…!”

Harold took a breath. “You don’t think just existing to be a vessel with no internal working mechanisms isn’t suffering? Do you think it has to be physical to suffer?” John quieted and looked away from Harold’s cold regard and Harold suddenly got hold of himself and calmed down before he continued.

“I saw the vacancy and embarrassment in his eyes when I would have to remind him constantly that I was his son… he couldn’t ever seem to remember me until one day finally he didn’t remember anything ever again. He lost himself as I’m destined to do and I won’t let that happen, John… I can’t let that happen, not to me and most importantly not to Grace.” Harold looked into his partner’s eyes and he knew then that John finally understood.

“I’m not able to let myself become like that John and I believe that if he had known what was happening to him at the time… if he knew before it happened how bad it would get, there’s not a question in my mind that he wouldn’t have wanted to live like that either.”

The silence hung in the air for a few moments before Harold spoke again.

“Grace is still young and vibrant John. I want her to have time and a chance with someone else… I want to save her any more pain than she’s already experiencing in watching me disappear… tangibly and intellectually.”

John was silent beside him for a moment then got up and turned to face him, smiling at him. “Okay…” He whispered, “I’ll be back soon. Prepare yourself… and Grace…” He took a breath then disappeared.

Harold sat there with his eyes closed in pain, the headache was increasing as his blood pressure had spiked and he began to contemplate the steps he would need to take before it was time for him to go. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard her voice beside him.

“Harold, ready to go?” Grace had come out from the bedroom, tossing her hair back from her shoulders.

Harold’s heart filled with overwhelming emotion at the sight of his love, standing before him, looking more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen. He gazed upon her for a long moment. He knew in his soul that this would be the last time he would ever see her looking so ravishing and he wanted this image to be the last he would ever remember. She blushed at his reverence and smiled shyly.

He cleared his throat, holding back the tears, “Absolutely…” He got to his feet and held out his good arm for her to take, carefully leading her to the balcony for their dinner date.

He led her to the table and pulled her chair out for her and she sat down.

Grace had already had everything laid out. The wine was poured and the plates were filled with charcuterie and fresh fruit and an array of fine cheeses.

She knew that Harold wouldn’t eat much, nor would she, his pain was becoming more impossible to manage and he rarely had an appetite anymore but he made the effort to appease her.

He had already lost an alarming amount of weight; his face was now gaunt and pale. But likely, for just this one occasion, they would have everything presented in fine form and pretend for a little while that they didn’t have a care in the world.

Harold picked up his glass with a trembling hand and held it up to her.

“To the loveliest and most wonderful woman on Earth… whose given name is as appropriate to her as the stars are to the heavens.”

He looked deeply into her beautiful emerald green eyes and lowered his glass to hers and touched them together in a toast. “To Grace… My Grace. I will always love you and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking me back.”

He touched her glass to hers and brought it to his lips and took a small sip as she blushed and did the same.

She smiled at him tenderly, her eyes filling with tears and found it too difficult to speak after his loving words to her.

They sat together looking over the city and picked at their food… but mostly they held hands and looked out over the gorgeous skyline on one of the most romantic cityscapes on earth and the image of colorful twinkling lights filled their vision as the sun set in the distance.

Harold began to feel agonizing pain in his head coming back on him with a vengeance. He was becoming exceedingly fatigued and Grace could see it plainly on his face. She saw it in the way he held his failing body; Harold needed to be back in bed but the glorious evening they had this night would remain with her until her dying day.

She knew that they would never have another like it together again and held her tears back as she observed him wistfully viewing the world around him contentedly, stroking his thumb over their entwined hands. She waited just long enough to let him get his fill of the view and then made it seem as though it were her idea and instigated the move back inside.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of a long and painful story. We hope that there will be at least some comfort in the resolution and hope you have enjoyed our tear-jerker. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading. 'Please feel free to leave a comment and let us know how we did.

Harold had fitful and broken dreams all through the night until finally he awoke suddenly with a gasp and sat straight up, completely lost and unsure of where he was. He looked around at his surroundings frantically trying to see through the darkness of the room.

Grace woke up alarmed as he sat up startling her from her sleep and observed him to be confused and afraid as he peered incomprehensively around the room.

“John?” He called out and winced as stabbing pain assaulted the area behind his eyes. His hands went to either side of his head and he held them there as he squeezed his eyes shut breathing deeply as the assault continued further and intensified without mercy.

“Harold…?” Grace asked gently, sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp. She touched his shoulder tentatively. “John’s not here sweetheart… You’re in Italy…”

He turned his upper body to look at her while his hands stayed pressing against the sides of his head putting pressure at his temples.

Harold’s gaze narrowed as he searched her face. “Who are you?”

Her heart constricted painfully as she watched his expression change from apprehension and then to fear. She wanted to break down and wail with grief… to lose herself right there but she couldn’t let the panic and despair take hold, she had to help her beloved as much as she was able to right now.

“Who… who are you?” He repeated again as he stared at her in alarm.

Grace swallowed hard and forced a smile of calm that she didn’t feel. “I’m Grace.” She answered as steadily as she could. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She could see the apprehension and anxiety in his eyes and answered again. “I’m Grace, Harold.”

He stared at her, trying to recall who she might be but nothing was registering. He looked down at himself and then around the room again and began to panic.

“This is wrong… what’s happening? Where’s John!?” His trepidation was giving rise to distress and quickly to anger and he moved quickly to get up from the bed.

Before Grace could act Harold threw the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. His weakened limbs couldn’t support the sudden weight and hurried effort and he collapsed to the floor with a horrible thud.

“Harold!” Grace quickly moved over the bed to see the love of her life lying in a heap, weeping despairingly.

She kneeled on the floor next to him not knowing if she should touch him or even to say anything to him as he lay there prone on the floor quaking with each heart-wrenching sob.

She decided to let him be for now and her own tears joined in with his.

Grace was torn as she sat there now letting him have the time he needed to come around. She wasn’t sure what to expect and the fear that took hold of her was immeasurable. Had she finally witnessed the end of the man she had fallen in love with or would he be back with her when he next spoke?

After many long moments, Harold quieted, exhausted from the exertion and Grace couldn’t help herself, she moved slowly and quietly and gently put her hand on his back and waited nervously for a response.

She wanted more than anything to throw herself at him and embrace him with her whole being but she couldn’t take the chance that he wouldn’t recognize her still and risk him hurting himself further by pulling away.

He slowly turned himself to face her and she was taken aback by the indignity and humiliation she saw in his tear streaked expression.

“Harold?” She asked anxiously, praying that he was back with her again.

“I’m so… sorry, my love,” He wept.

She laid down to face him on the floor and ran her hand over his wet cheek. “It’s all right sweetheart… it’s all right.” She soothed him as best she could.

It was then that Grace made her final decision… as she moved closer to embrace him. She would help Harold complete whatever task he set her to and aid him in the resolution he had chosen for himself. She knew now as well as he did that their time together was drawing to an end.

#

Two days later Harold had another episode… A devastating one.

One that forced Grace to call an ambulance when she couldn’t wake him after a brutal seizure. She was frantic, she knew that this could more than likely be the end.

“Grace…?” Harold murmured from the back of the ambulance, full awareness was eluding him.

She got up from the seat in the back of the rig where she sat and watched in worry as the EMT’s performed their jobs with skillful efficiency, “I’m here, Harold…” She grabbed his hand.

“What’s… happening?” He slurred, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Grace frowned, “You had another attack, my love. I couldn’t wake you, I got scared and called an ambulance.”

Harold let out a breath and his eyes closed, “Oh…” He breathed before he fell unconscious again.

#

“We are administering fentanyl for the pain… but I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do. You now may want to start thinking about Hospice or an assisted living facility…”

Grace closed her eyes, fighting back the urge to scream, to punch something or to break down and lose it all together, “How long…?” She choked out.

The doctor let out a deep breath… “With the way the tumor has grown and with his failing health in just these last two months… I’d say at best another two or three weeks… but perhaps only days… I’m so sorry.”

Grace’s legs went weak beneath her and she collapsed into the chair she had been sitting in when the doctor came in to speak to her.

He gripped her arm reflexively and helped her down to the seat and put his hand on her shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Hendricks… We’ll do everything we can to keep him comfortable for now but the decision needs to be made very soon.”

#

Grace walked into his room. He looked pale and exhausted. He opened his weary eyes and drank in the sight of her.

“Hey sweetheart,” She smiled, going to him and taking his frail hand in hers and bringing it to her lips.

“Grace.” He smiled back as best as he could. “What’s the verdict?” He asked weakly.

“We’re going home,” Grace said, clearing her throat. She ran her fingers through his hair, “I’m taking you home and you can rest there.”

The look in Harold’s eyes told her that he knew. He knew this was it. It was the end and he had accepted it. But he didn’t want to go back to their place to die. He didn’t want her to have to remember his final moments in the home that they had made for themselves… not there.

Harold understood that if he were to die in their bed… that Grace would have to live with that memory of him there always and he didn’t want her to be haunted by it. He was ready now.

“I’m so terribly tired my love,” He whispered.

A tear came to Grace’s eye, “I know, sweetheart…” She kissed his forehead, “I know.”

John appeared beside Grace, towering over them both, “It’s time, Harold,” He smiled.

Harold looked up at his partner and nodded in contented relief.

Grace could see the calm acceptance in Harold’s eyes as he stared off into the space next to her and she knew that he was seeing John. He was communicating with his friend and she smiled at him.

“What does he say, my love?” She asked him tenderly.

“He’s here for me… my angel,” He answered weakly.

She couldn’t speak for a long moment as the tears welled and clouded her vision. She nodded at him and kissed his hand and leaned down to kiss his lips.

“I’m going to go with him now, sweetheart… would that be all right?” He asked her faintly.

“Yes, my love… you can go with him now.” She whispered in his ear and lingered, pressing her wet cheek to his then turned her head and kissed his precious face.

She stood up and when she looked upon him once more she witnessed his final smile for her on his loving lips. “My… Grace.” He exhaled and closed his eyes for the last time.

Fate had intervened and took the step that Harold had been resolved to take himself… removing the act from his own hand.

She sat with him for a long while… holding his hand until a nurse came in to check on her. They had let her take as long as she needed before they encouraged her to go home and take care of herself.

Grace stood and caressed the face of the man that would never have an equal in her life, for the last time and smiled at him. “Rest easy now my love... wait for me.”

She walked to the door and turned to gaze at him once more before she left to go back to the home that they had made together and back to the little dog that they both had loved so dearly.

 

The Letter

 

She found the letter just as he had planned her to… after she had accepted that he was truly gone.

His penmanship was a marvel to behold.

Her name was inscribed exquisitely in old English calligraphy upon a beautiful taupe parchment envelope. Grace ran her fingers over the ink achingly before she turned it over and lifted the flap to reveal its contents.

She pulled the folded letter from the envelope and opened it reverently. Each word was scripted elegantly, just as Harold had lived his life. He must have written the words well before his symptoms accelerated and assaulted him without mercy, robbing him of the ability to hold the antique fountain pen that he’d treasured.

As she looked upon the lines of poetry he had penned with love and devotion her eyes welled with tears and spilled down her face. She could hardly see through the blur as she began to read:

 _“Farewell my love, we’ll be together soon. I’m resting with the angels, they’ll carry me to you. Take care my dear we’ll see each other soon. We’ll meet up in the heavens, I’ll be waiting there for you.”_ Grace sat down to continue, her legs going weak as she read on.  
_“Goodnight my dear be still your worried heart, keep me in your prayers, we’ll never be apart. Take heed sweet love you’ll never be alone, I’m watching from the heavens to keep you safe from harm.”_

  
When Grace neared the end of the beautiful words written in Harold’s deft hand she began to sob quietly as she read the last of them through her tears.

 _“Some day when you have had the full and happy life you deserve and are ready… we’ll be as one and you will join me in everlasting love and happiness…”_  
_“Yours with undying devotion, Harold.”_


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace is still trying to come to terms with her loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for those that had asked for something to touch on the aftermath of Grace's reaction to losing Harold so tragically.  
> I hope that it serves you all well. Thanks again!

“I've tried, my love. I really have…” Grace kneeled and placed the bouquet of red roses into the vase at the base of her true love’s tombstone. She stood and turned to sit on the little black granite bench she had placed there shortly after his burial.

It had taken a relatively long time before she’d even been able to visit the gravesite… after she had lost him. But once she was able to get past the cruel reality of his loss and was able to function as well as she could again, she was there every day with a book in hand to read to him.

Today was a new one; it was the twenty third book she would be starting over the years so far.

It was one of their mutual favorites and the one closest to her heart. It had taken this long for her to be able to read it again after his death, “Sense and Sensibility.”

It had been five years to the day since she’d last seen him alive, and the pain was just as fresh in heart as it had been the day she was forced to say goodbye. She was sure that she’d never be over the love of her life; his warmth, his generosity of spirit, and the incredible display of love he had reigned upon her.

“I wanted to do what you asked of me… but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.” She broke down and wept.

“We were so carefree and naïve when we met. You treated me like the most precious thing you’d ever seen and held me close as if I were a priceless gem that you could never let go of.” She closed her sad eyes and let the tears run freely down her cheeks.

“I had never been so happy in my life until I met you. You changed everything for me.” She turned the book around in her hands, contemplative.

“I’m afraid that you’ve made it impossible for me to ever allow anyone else into my heart, my love. There’s no one else on earth that could ever come close to what we had.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes and nose with the tissue that she always carried with her now. There hasn’t been a day that she hasn’t cried at least twice since the day she lost him.

“I left Chumley at home today. I just wanted it to be us for a little while… I hope you don’t mind.” She knelt again before the tombstone and touched the engraved lettering of his name etched into the marble stone. She longed to see his face again, to hear his pleasing voice whisper his love and devotion to her again.

She stood up and returned to the bench, sitting carefully through the haze of tears that clouded her eyes.

She smiled and took a breath, “I thought you’d be interested to know that I heard from a friend of yours. Someone from your past, someone that you worked with before…” she quieted and took a shuddering breath, “Someone that knew John too.”

She smiled a little, “She’s a little firebrand, isn’t she?” she chuckled, “She wasn’t sure that I’d remember her… but who could ever forget someone that had saved your life. Of course I remembered her and detective Fusco… and John.”

“She said that she was just looking in on me. That she was here for business and that she needed to see that I was okay while she was here.”

“She told me many things that I didn’t know sweetheart. She told me how much good you had done with your wealth and kindness and about how many people you helped along the way… including her.” Grace took another deep breath, “I wish we had had the time so that it could have been you to tell me all these heroic things you were able to do for all those people… but you never would have, would you my darling? You were always too modest, too humble to accept thanks and praise for anything you had done, weren’t you?”

“Oh Harold… I miss you desperately…” Grace put her hands to her face and wept freely for a long while.

She composed herself and sat up straight, wiping her eyes again, and picked up the book that she’d brought. She opened the cover and began,  
_“For many years, Henry Dashwood and his family had lived at Norland Park and cared for its owner, Henry’s aged uncle. On the old man’s death, Henry inherited the estate. He had always expected that he would be free to leave it, in turn, to be shared among his wife and three daughters. John, his son by a previous marriage, was amply provided for. His mother had left him a large estate, and his wife further increased his wealth with a handsome dowry._

Grace read to her beloved for hours into the day until the sun began to set behind the place Harold lay.

She closed the book after marking her place for the next day’s visit, “I’ll be back tomorrow sweetheart and we’ll hear again all about the Dashwood’s and their sad and hopeful adventures.”

She ran her hand over the top of the stone and smiled, “Maybe I’ll bring Chumley with me to visit… he misses you too.” She closed her eyes again and pictured Harold’s wondrous and breathtaking smile and her heart ached again.

She swallowed and leaned over to place a kiss upon the stone as she always does, “Until then my love…” she turned and walked to the town-car that had been waiting for her.

The chauffer stood by the back door, ready to open it for her. Grace smiled at him and paused to look back once more to where her darling now rested.

Harold had chosen a wonderful place for them both to lay. When it was her time, she would be more than content to lay beside the love of her life for eternity… until then…

She would be more than happy to read to him.


End file.
